Spinning Into Place
by Chloe Silvers
Summary: 30 seconds- that's all it took. If Stiles had been there 30 seconds earlier, he could have stopped the Darach from claiming his best friend,could have stopped Scott from lighting himself on fire. Now, he's the human leader of a werewolf pack, trying to take down two enemies, while his most powerful members are running around, determined to find Derek, who he thinks is already dead.
1. Hell is where I am standing

Stiles unzipped his brown leather jacket and turned his head to the side slowly, cracking his neck. He was standing outside of a circle of mountain ash, arms folded, waiting patiently for the Alpha in front of him to stir.

"Knew you'd follow the same trail", he said when the Alpha finally saw him.

The Alpha got up and moved to lunge at Stiles, but Stiles didn't move or react. His arms remained crossed and his mouth turned into a small smile. The mountain ash threw the Alpha to the other side of the circle. "That's not very nice."

Red eyes were now staring back at him, but Stiles stayed there. "You can't keep me here for very long. I'm an Alpha."

Stiles uncrossed his arms and walked around the circle for a moment. "In this room, you're an Omega. I decide if and when you leave." He stood still. "Tell me where Deucalion is."

"I don't know where he is."

Stiles tilted his head to the side. "Wrong answer." He held a hand open and watched as the lightning flew from the tips of his fingers to the werewolf, who started writhing and shouting in pain. He closed his hand in a fist and stepped closer to the circle. "Where is Deucalion?" He repeated

"I don't know!"

Stiles held out his hand again and the Alpha was electrocuted again. "Try again."

"I haven't seen him in days", the Alpha responded through his teeth.

Stiles flashed a smile. "Now we're getting somewhere. Where did you see him last?"

"I don't remember."

Stiles let out a sigh. "And we were doing so well." He electrocuted the Alpha again, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Now, we can do this for days, weeks, even. And I've got nothing but time, but I'd rather torture Deucalion. So why don't you tell me where I can find him?"

"Go to hell."

He stepped into the circle of the mountain ash and kneeled to get down to the Alpha's level. Stiles grabbed the werewolf's chin with one hand, forcing it to look him in the eye. "I'm already there."

He pulled out a fistful of wolfsbane and blew it into the Alpha's eyes, watching him lose consciousness before letting go and stepping out of the circle, leaving the connection intact.

_***Six Months Ago***_

Lydia pushed open the door and Stiles carried the body into the veterinarian's office. He set Scott's body down on the table. "There has to be something that you can do", he said frantically. "You have to help him."

"What's on his skin?" Deaton asked, getting out a stethoscope and checking the pulse.

"I used a fire extinguisher on him. It's not important. You have to do something to fix him."

Deaton took the stethoscope out of his ears and shook his head. "It's too late, Stiles. He's gone."

Stiles looked at Deaton, then at Lydia and Allison before shifting his focus to Deaton again. "You have to do something. I don't care what it is, you've wanted Scott to take over. He's your favorite out of all of them. You can do weird things that I can't even put a name to, you know about beings that we've never heard of. Derek", Stiles swallowed at the name, "He", Stiles corrected. "He said that you found him when Peter came back from the dead. It's possible. If Scott's gone, you can just bring him back."

"That ritual calls for a full moon in a sacred place, and for an Alpha."

"We have an entire town filled with Alphas, okay?" Stiles said, pointing towards the down behind him. "Take your pick. Bring him back."

"There's nothing I can do", Deaton said steadily. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing?" Lydia asked. "I just spent the night hearing dead peoples' voices and that's pretty impossible. You're telling me that with all of these books in here", she gestured towards the bookcase. "There's nothing you can do."

"They're veterinary books", Allison tried.

Lydia went over to it and pulled out a book on Veterinary Medicine. She pulled on the book sleeve and opened the plain black book. "Runes", she read. "Don't think you need that to fix a sick cat."

"I'm sorry for your loss", Deaton told them before leaving the office.

Stiles barely noticed him leaving- all he saw was his now dead best friend, lying there, pasty with burn marks covered in fire extinguisher. All he knew was that they had saved a pack of werewolves and an Alpha who probably wouldn't hesitate to kill them in a week, and he was thirty seconds too late to keep his best friend alive.

He couldn't shake the vision of the flames out of his head, couldn't stop thinking about the kerosene that was soaked into Scott's skin.

Stiles dropped to his knees and let out a sobbing yell, unable to register the sound of Allison crying or the feeling of Lydia holding him.

"He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His namesake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me."

Stiles was numb as he heard the words. He thought that he saw his father grab Mrs. McCall's hand, but it didn't matter. The scene kept replaying in his mind, something compelling Scott to drop the last flare in a circle of kerosene, running towards Scott as Lydia and Allison went in the bus to find something to get rid of the flames. Stiles pulled his jacket over his head and shoved Scott out of the way, trying to pat out the flames.

He could still feel the itching of the burn that ran down his arm. He could still hear the hissing of the fire extinguisher as Lydia doused Scott with it before hitting Stiles with the fluid in the back.

Allison's car was out of gas and they keys were in the ignition of the bus. Stiles sped as fast as he could, ran a dozen red lights, and tried to get him to Deaton in time. Allison must have driven the bus back while Stiles was crying. That probably wasn't a good decision- she was hurting too, and she shouldn't have been on the road like that.

He didn't listen to the rest of the funeral. He just noticed that at some point, people were putting flowers on Scott's casket and telling him and Mrs. McCall that they were sorry for their loss.

He saw Deaton standing in the distance in the corner of his eye, with sunglasses and a black leather jacket. Stiles didn't even realize that he was running towards him until his father's voice echoed out. "Stiles, what are you doing? Stiles!"

Deaton raised his eyebrows, and looked genuinely surprised when Stiles punched him in the face. "You have no right to be here", he yelled at Deaton. "Get out!"

"I came to pay my respects." There was a steady tone in his voice.

"Your respects?" Stiles let out a laugh. "Kind of useless at this point, isn't it? You don't do anything. You never do anything!"

"It's understandable that you're upset. I didn't kill him."

Stiles shook his head. "You weren't there either."

"I'm not Scott's keeper."

"You were his mentor. You were like a father to him", Stiles shouted.

"Calm down. You're making a scene."

"You didn't even try to save him! You abandoned him", Stiles told him. "Just like you abandoned the Hales. You were supposed to help them, guide them, give them advice. Where were you this summer when we were looking for Erica and Boyd? You were sitting in your office, taking care of paperwork? Did you visit Peter after the fire? Did you keep an eye on Laura and Derek to keep them safe?"

"They were difficult times."

"I don't care!" Stiles yelled. "If you were there at all, you would have stopped Peter from killing Laura, you would have pulled Scott out of the forest before Peter bit him. You would have stopped dozens of people from dying, and if you cared about anything at all, you would have told someone about what's really going on with the people dropping in this town. But no, you just tell me when I confront you, when I say that I know that you know something."

Deaton didn't move, and he didn't answer. And Stiles kept going. "If you had been there at all, you would have helped Derek, you would have helped Erica. And I get that you wanted Scott to be better, that you wanted to help him be this great leader, but you couldn't even keep him alive to do that!"

He watched Lydia and Isaac pulling people away from the scene, trying to get them away before they heard too much. It was just as well anyway.

"You could have had two Alphas saving this town. They could have worked together and taken Deucalion down, kept this place safe from whatever dark druid is killing people. And now? Now there are none. Scott and Derek are gone, and you could have stopped it from happening."

"I loved Scott like a son", Deaton told him.

"He didn't need another father to bail on him", Stiles bit back. "Leave your books and get out of town. You're not needed here anymore. You're free." He spat out the last word.

There was an arm pulling Stiles back before he could punch Deaton again. Lydia pulled Stiles into her arms, rubbing circles in his back. "It's okay." she whispered. "It's okay."

They surrounded Stiles in a circle. Peter, Cora, Isaac, and Boyd, with Lydia and Stiles in the center. Peter and Cora stepped in front of Stiles, flashed their eyes at Deaton, and didn't break their gaze until he walked away.

Everyone else went back to school the next day. Stiles went to Deaton's practice instead, taking all of his books and shoving them in his car, driving away with them. He hid them in different parts of his room so that his father wouldn't find them and ask questions.

He chewed some Adderall and started reading them. He didn't look up until the sun had gone down and he heard knocking on his door. It was Lydia.

"I'm sorry", she told him, letting herself in and holding out a stack of papers. "I brought your homework."

"That was nice of you", Stiles said, closing the door behind her. "Thanks for bringing it by." He took the stack and rested it on the side.

"I never got the chance to apologize." She told him, sitting on his bed. "I didn't hear him in time. It's my fault."

He sat next to her. "I should have known that he would end up being a part of all of it", he said. "Isaac and Boyd are alive because of what you could hear."

"Ethan too", Lydia added. "I didn't know the twins were Alphas."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "I assumed you knew."

"No, I like to keep my life as normal as possible. The last thing I wanted in a rebound was supernatural and murderous."

"So just cocky then", Stiles joked. "Sure."

She smiled for a second. "If it comes down to us and them, I hope you know what side I'm on."

"I know."

"I saw something...that night. It's going to sound crazy. But before we put out the fire, I swore I heard a cackling noise. And a demented figure in the middle of the fire."

He narrowed his eyes. "You think there's something that affected the werewolves?"

"I think it was attacking all of them, hoping that three would give in."

"The usual signs weren't there." Stiles sighed

"I think it only went after him when it realized that we were saving everyone. I know it doesn't make much sense, but can you just keep it in mind?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll keep it in mind."

She smiled. "You're going to share the bounty of knowledge with me, right?"

"After I'm done with it."

"Do you think there's anything about me in these?" She asked

He had been thinking about what she was for a while. He didn't think that Peter was possessing her- whatever she was, it was like she was magically drawn to dead bodies. Like their spirits had a feeling like their bodies wouldn't be found, and called out to her.

"We're going to figure it out. After all, you're the genius right?"

"True", she said, picking up one of the books. "But you're no slouch either." She took out the book sleeve. "You're going to have to replace these with something a little more your style." She crumpled it up and tossed it in the garbage. "Like comic book related or something."

"Or I can just print out a fictional interpretation of what it is and pretend it's science fiction."

"I could always help you make a database on your computer. Make it easier to access." She suggested.

"I can handle it", he assured her.

"You don't have to do it by yourself", Lydia said quietly. "It'll never be okay that Scott's gone, but you don't have to do everything alone."

He wanted to answer her, to say thanks, but he couldn't. "How are Isaac and Boyd?" He asked. "Allison?"

"Allison's depressed, Isaac and Boyd are losing control and attacking Ethan and Aiden", Lydia said bluntly.

"They lost Derek and Scott in the same day, and Boyd still doesn't have an anchor. It makes sense."

"Isaac's blaming himself for not being there", Lydia told him.

"Well, Isaac can wait in line", Stiles said bitterly.

Lydia was silent for a moment. "I'm going to help you with this", she decided. "We have to come up with a plan before something decides to go after more humans."

He nodded. "Someone has to protect this town, and we just ran out of options."


	2. Don't go where I can't follow

He kept waiting for Scott to show up. He was half expecting Scott to just come in through the classroom and sit in the empty seat next to him and smile brightly. Say, "Sorry I'm late."

Stiles was hoping that he was caught up in some supernatural dreamspace that he would suddenly wake up from, and that Scott would just look at him and think that he was being silly. That he would say something like, "Just because I haven't picked up my phone in a couple of days doesn't mean I died."

But it wasn't like that. It felt like every second of the day was a let down, that every class was a disappointment. Isaac and Boyd refuse to look him in the eye. Allison burst into tears at the sight of him. Stiles was assuming that Lydia was busying herself in school, because she was acting normally, just scribbling away quickly, like she was reaching a mathematical breakthrough any second.

He was eating lunch alone, wondering how long it was going to be like this for, when Danny suddenly sat down across from him.

"Hey."

Stiles asked himself if he needed to worry about Danny being killed or turned. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry about what happened, and if you want to hang out at my table, you can."

It was a nice gesture, but Stiles wasn't in the mood to entertain a pity invite followed by lunch with Alpha twins. He got up and grabbed his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder. "Thanks, Danny. That's nice of you, but I have to go print something out for class."

He dumped the rest of his food in the trash. Danny nodded, getting up too. "No problem, man. See you at practice?"

Right, because he was in cross-country now. Stiles put a smile on his face and turned around to face Danny. "Sure."

After school, he stared at the locker next to his for twenty minutes.

_You've still got me, okay? So life fulfilled._

He always thought that if one of them was going to die, it would Stiles, as the human in the group. He never thought that his own life wouldn't be fulfilled.

He remembered being amazed the first time Scott deflected a shot in the goal during Lacrosse tryouts. That it was completely unbelievable, that his best friend was going to be on the team, and that it didn't matter if he made it himself or not. Being benched didn't matter, all that mattered was that Scott made it.

He walked right past the locker room and went out the door, got into his Jeep, and drove home. The first thing he did when he got upstairs to his bedroom was to rip every Star Wars DVD out of his collection and throw them out his window with as much force as he could muster. The words echoed in his head with every throw.

_I swear, if we make it back alive, I will watch the movie._

_***Flashback***_

_"He's left before, but I don't know. It sounds crazy, but I just don't think he's coming back this time, Stiles." Scott said over the phone._

_"My parents won't let me come over", Stiles told him. "But I'll be there first thing tomorrow, okay? It's going to be okay, I promise. We'll go to the comic book store. I heard they released the new Batman comic..."_

_He remembered right after his mother's funeral, Scott showed up with a Batman comic book, and gave him a hug. "The guy at the comic book store said it was a good one."_

_***Flashback***_

_"Stiles", Erica said through the pain, pinching a little bit of his shirt between her fingers. "You make a good Batman."_

_***End Flashback***_

The truth of the matter was that Stiles wasn't Batman or Robin, because Dick Grayson eventually became Nightwing. He was ready to move on without Bruce Wayne there- he could save the world without him. But Scott and Stiles were always a package deal, with Scott listed first. It was why Stiles never even thought about turning his back on all of the supernatural things happening in this town. Making sure that Scott was alive was always the first priority, protecting the town second.

He couldn't get to Scott in time. He failed. The most important people in his life were Scott and his Dad, and now he lost Scott. If Lydia was right and the Darach was the reason why Scott doused himself in kerosene and dropped that flare, then Stiles needed to make sure that it didn't do something to his father. But he wasn't ready to give up on Scott yet. If Deaton wasn't going to bother bringing him back, then Stiles would.

He took every single book out of their hiding spot and pulled each and every one open, trying to find something that would help him. He looked at spells, enchantments, potions, rituals, runes.

With every failed book, he looked at the rest of the pile stacked high, telling himself that if it wasn't in this one, it would be in one of the following ones. When the stack of books that he had already read started getting higher than the ones left over, he started feeling the panic take over. He looked at the remaining books desperately, looking for something that he could do. He didn't need information on how to find fairies, he needed something to bring back his best friend.

He knew that he was the only person in the world that knew everything about Scott, all of his fears and secrets. If there was anybody who could talk him off of the ledge, it was Stiles, and he couldn't get there. He would easily trade Ethan for Scott- he didn't care what it took. But there was nothing here. There had to be something that he missed. There was always something. There's always some weird plan that they pulled out of nowhere that helped to save the day.

But when flipped over the final page of the last book to find an index, he felt his hands start to shake. "No", he muttered. "There's always something."

He tore his room apart, searching for a book that he hadn't uncovered, but there was nothing there. "Come on", he said desperately, going to his laptop and starting a search. But instead of finding out how to bring someone back from the dead, he found countless articles about how to mourn and move on from the death of a loved one. There were a couple of jokes about how necromancy classes were expensive, jokes he would have laughed at a week ago. He shut the laptop when his vision got blurry, and he sat on the floor, hitting his head against the wall as tear after tear fell down his face.

He couldn't find anything. There was nothing here.

He remembered the last time he was sitting like this. He wished he hadn't been mad at him that first full moon, over a girl, even if it was Lydia. An unbelievable, piece of crap friend. That's what he called him. Stiles never would have done that if he had known that this time the previous year, Scott would be dead.

He never would have blocked Scott out when Gerard kidnapped him just to punish him a little bit. He wouldn't have been angry every time Scott didn't pick up his phone. It all seemed insignificant now, like time he shouldn't have wasted.

He picked something up from the ground that he had tossed aside, and smiled a little bit. He put all of the books away, ignoring the rest of the mess and got in his car.

The tombstone was alone in the cemetery- Scott's Mom didn't want him there with strangers surrounding him. It was a really nice tombstone- white onyx. Stiles' dad said that Mrs. McCall had been saving up for Scott's college tuition. This must have been what she put it towards.

He looked at the lettering- Scott McCall, loving son and friend.

"You didn't give me the chance to follow you", he said softly. "You've always been my best friend, you've always saved me. You never gave me the chance to go with you."

He traced over the letter E. "You're my best friend", he repeated. "There isn't a single favor too big, didn't you get that? Didn't you realize that I couldn't do any of this without you? You've always been there for me, for everyone else. How could you think that my life could go back to normal, that I could live without you here?"

_You're my best friend and I can't have you being angry with me._

He wiped the tear away with his sleeve. "How could you just leave me here? You're my brother, Scott. I need you here. Please do something", he begged. "Make the ground glow or dig your way out of there or tap into werewolf powers or something. Part of the new and improved Scott McCall isn't dying. Come on, I know you can do something. Please, Scott. Please come back."

He sat there for twenty minutes, repeating the word please, not caring about how it looked or the mixture of snot and tears that were dripping from his face. "Please come back. Please tell me what to do next. I don't know what to do."

Nothing happened. Stiles wasn't sure what he was expecting. He cleared his throat and wiped his face. "Lydia thinks that it wasn't a suicide, that there's more to it. And I'm really hoping that it's true, otherwise I'm going to be really pissed off at you for doing this to me, okay? If it was the Darach, and it's behind all of this, I'm going to find it, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't hurt anyone again. And if it kills me in the process, then you better have a game of Jenga or something set up over there, okay?"

He grabbed the packet out of his backpack, and held it up in front of the tombstone. "Brought you something", he said, putting it on the ground and flipping to a page. He placed a couple of rocks on each side to keep it from blowing away in the wind.

"Make sure my Mom takes care of you, okay?" He asked, before getting up and leaving.

On the page, there was a picture of Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson making an oath by candlelight. It was the comic that Scott had given him years ago, as a way of telling Stiles that he wasn't alone. The words were written clearly on the page for anyone who walked by to see.

_We two will fight together against crime and corruption, and never to swerve from the path of righteousness!_


	3. The phoenix may or may not rise

Reading was the only thing that helped Stiles sleep through the night. He recited ingredients from potions, procedures for rituals, and tried to visualize the shapes of runes like they were going to keep him alive a day longer.

There was a store out of town, about an hour's drive in the middle of Chinatown that had everything he would need. He wanted to head over there and take a long around after finishing his homework to see whether Deaton's books were full of crap, or if the guy really was holding out on them all.

He was halfway done with an essay when his phone rang. It was Cora. He wondered if Derek or Peter took her shopping for new things and a cellphone once she officially moved into the loft. But then again, they were all broody. It probably didn't work out that way.

She didn't say hello after he greeted her. There were no pleasantries exchanged. "Are you available to talk?" She asked

"Sure, what's up?"

There was a beeping noise in his phone. He glanced at the screen. She had ended the call.

"That's the opposite of what you're supposed to do next", he said, resting the phone next to him on his desk and turning back to his computer.

Two minutes later, the doorbell rang. If it was someone trying to be religious and preachy, Stiles was going to tell them that he thought Satan was awesome before shutting the door. On the other hand, it could always be an adorable little Girl Scout, and he loved their cookies. Stiles got up and went downstairs, unlocking the door and opening it to see Cora and Peter Hale standing there.

They called first and rang the doorbell. Bizarre. "This is...oddly polite", he said, his hand still on the door. "You're not going to eat me, are you?"

Peter chuckled. "I told you it was too much."

"Come in, I guess." Stiles held the door open for them to enter the house and stopped them from going anywhere else once he shut the door behind them.

"Follow me", he told them, heading up the stairs. They followed him silently until they reached his bedroom. He shut the door once they were all inside before sitting down at his desk and minimizing his essay. "What do you need?" He asked

"Derek's not dead", Cora told him.

Stiles turned around in his chair. "Is he here?" He asked

"No", she answered.

"Have you seen him lately?"

"No."

"Then it doesn't matter to me", Stiles told her.

"We're leaving town", Peter announced. Cora shot him a look. "What? I think it should have been your opening."

"What? Are you kidding me with this?" Stiles asked, getting up. "The Darach is still killing and the Alphas are still out there, and you're skipping town? This is unbelievable."

"Derek's not dead. We never found a body", Cora told him.

"What difference is it going to make once you find a corpse?" Stiles asked. "We're on high alert all of the time, and I know it's easier for you two because you're healing, but who do you think is the weakest link in this little group here, huh? The two betas that seem to have come back from the dead, or the human going to school with two Alpha werewolves?"

"If Derek died, then someone in the pack would have taken the lead as Alpha", Peter explained. "That hasn't happened, which means that Derek's still alive."

"And what? He decided to take a vacation from all of it? You're all pissed off at each other, I get it. But he wouldn't do that. You know he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't just leave everyone behind."

"Not unless he had to", Cora finished. "We're going to find out why he can't."

"No", Stiles shook his head. "You can't do that. I know you two probably process death quickly or something, but it's not a werewolf thing. Have you seen Isaac and Boyd recently? They're little pod people. They can barely keep themselves going, forget about if something attacks them."

Peter pulled a book out from under the bed. "What about you?" He asked, flipping through it.

"Put that back where you found it", Stiles ordered him. Even the books said that bringing someone back from the dead had a high chance of them being even more twisted than when they were alive, and Peter wasn't exactly a treat when he was alive.

Peter smiled at Stiles, shutting the book with a snap and handing it over.

There was a deep cut in Peter's hand. Werewolves didn't get wounds that lasted long. "What happened to your hand?" He asked, taking the book

Cora gave Peter a questioning look. "Nothing", Peter replied.

He was tired of secrets that weren't fully explained that just bit them all in the ass later. Stiles tossed the book on his bed, grabbed Peter's wrist and held out his hand. "Where did this come from?" Stiles demanded. "Why aren't you healing?"

Stiles heard Peter's breath hitch with the contact. "Omegas like to dig the graves of werewolves that have fallen. If someone in the pack can surround the body with a spiral of wolfsbane, it prevents them from getting near it."

"You didn't have to do that", Stiles reasoned. "I could have done it."

"I turned him. Scott was my responsibility. I'm sorry."

"This town is your responsibility now", Stiles told him, ignoring the apology and trying not to wince at the sound of the name. "Both of you", he added, looking at Cora. "You two are the ones on our side that have been doing this the longest. We have to come up with some sort of plan."

"You're the one that usually comes up with the plan, aren't you?" Cora asked. "You can handle this."

"I'm not a werewolf. Don't werewolves have some sort of backup Alpha in case things go south and they can't be found?"

"They need someone that they can trust who has a calm and collected head", Peter explained. "They need someone to lead them."

"Well right now, we need to guarantee that we can survive if someone attacks again", Stiles replied. "Boyd doesn't have an anchor and the next full moon isn't too far from now. You know that. I can't keep him in control."

"If you need us, we'll be here", Cora told him.

"No you won't, because apparently you guys are leaving town. These things happen in a split second. You know that. I can't protect them."

"I wouldn't be too sure", Peter said, tilting his head to the side, looking at the book on the bed.

"I don't even know if that's going to work."

"Have you ever used anything before to help? Created a weapon with mountain ash or wolfsbane?"  
Stiles didn't think that a circle he made with mountain ash one time counted. "Does a mountain ash barrier count as a weapon?"

"How long were you able to sustain it?" Cora asked

Stiles shook his head. "I don't know, a couple of minutes? Derek forced me to break the seal."  
Peter nodded. "If you can manage to make something in there work, if you can sustain it, then you'll have the power to lead all by yourself. I always thought you were interesting, Stiles."

"If we're going to do this", Stiles started. "Then you have to cut the crap, Peter. I'm not a puppet or a new fun toy that you can play with. If you want me to be the leader, you have to be able to trust me. If you have a problem with my approach, let me know and help me change it instead of manipulating me. If you're in, you're in. If not, you can go find Derek and have a separate party going on there."

"If I had bitten you a year ago, you would still be here, willing to lead the pack. It doesn't matter to me that you're a human now. The leadership is the same." Peter answered.

"Cora?" Stiles asked. "I get that we don't exactly know each other very well."

"We'd stay and help you if we could", Cora told him. "But we can't abandon Derek. He's my brother. He's family."

"When are you guys leaving?"

Someone knocked on his door before she could answer. "Stiles? Can I come in?"

"Did I leave the door unlocked?" He asked himself

"Looks like the window is the most convenient access point", Peter remarked, opening it widely. "Don't suppose you gave Derek a key when he stayed here?"

"Of course I didn't", Stiles answered, opening the door. "Hey, Allison. Come on in."

Her eyes were still red and slightly puffy. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she had a hard look in her eyes. "Lydia said you guys think a dark druid killed Scott. I want to help you kill it."

Big leap for a girl who was crying at the sight of Stiles just walking around the school.

"Absolutely not", Peter said immediately.

"Who is she?" Cora asked

Peter crossed his arms. "She's an Argent."

Cora tensed immediately and flashed her eyes. "Wait", Stiles said, putting a hand out and stepping in between the Hales and Allison. "Cora, stop. It's okay." He waited until her eyes were their normal color before turning back to Allison. "First of all, it's a theory." He turned his head at Peter. "And second of all, you just told me that you wanted to me start calling the shots. Seriously?"

Peter let out a sigh. "Force of habit."

"He does have a point though", Stiles reason, ignoring the smug look forming on Peter's face. "You went from crying your eyes out to wanting to kill pretty quickly, don't you think?" He stepped to the side, now that he knew that Cora wasn't going to attack Allison. "I don't want to be mean or insensitive, but now's not really the best time for you to go on a bender."

"I'm sorry", Cora interrupted. "Since when is working with an Argent okay?"

"Since she started helping us with Jackson", Stiles answered.

"But not when she decided to hunt everyone down, right?" Peter asked. "Because that would be a strange club meeting."

"So she's still a hunter", Cora concluded skeptically.

"And you're still a werewolf", Allison returned.

"And I'm a human", Stiles said loudly. "Everyone familiar with each other now? Any handshaking need to be done? Anyone?"

"She will ruin you if you let her help you", Peter warned. "If this is how she acted last time, she hasn't learned."

"Okay, why don't you focus on what your task is, and I'll focus on this one?" Stiles asked. "Look, Allison, there's no denying that you can help, and I honestly need all the help I can get, but it's going to have to be a team effort, and I know that the rest of the team won't work with you."

"I'm different now", Allison told him. "I'm working with you, not against you."

"You went rogue", Stiles said simply. "They haven't forgotten that. They won't trust you- none of them will."

"You said it yourself, nobody died because of me. I'm no worse than Peter, and he's helping."

Stiles really wished that she hadn't said that. He also wished that everything didn't start suddenly moving faster than he could keep up with. Peter had suddenly leapt across the room and shoved Allison against the wall. He had grabbed her wrists and slammed them on top of each other above her head, holding them in place with one hand, the other firmly around her neck.

Allison was looking at Stiles desperately for help, but he had a feeling that Peter had to say something that he had been keeping in. Stiles stepped back a couple of steps to where Cora was standing. He was surprised that she hadn't held Peter back or tried to stop him. "Make sure he doesn't kill her", he murmured.

Cora nodded, not taking her eyes off of Peter. Allison had been trying to kick Peter out of the way, but he hadn't moved.

"Sorry is just a word to you, isn't it?" He asked lowly. "You feel like you should improve, but it's superficial."

"I've made. My mistakes", Allison tried.

"Yes", he spat out. "You made mistakes. You're sorry. That sounds like another Argent I know. She wasn't sincere either, and I can tell. I can hear it in your pulse, I can see it in your eyes, in your actions, in your family. Your mother tried to kill your boyfriend for having sex with you because of what he is. Derek saved his life, changed her unintentionally, and your mother chose to end her life rather than become one of us."

"I didn't...do anything to you", Allison gasped. "Let me go."

"You hunted. My nephew." Peter said firmly. "You did plenty."

"He was turning teenagers for power" she said, struggling with the words.

"You can't reason your way out of it, and I can't either. My nephew", He said the words through clenched teeth. "Made sure that they knew exactly what kind of life they would be leading. I didn't offer that luxury."

Stiles watched Allison's lips curl into a smirk, and let out a gulp. He shot Cora a look. She nodded.

"You want to know the difference between you and me?" Stiles could tell that his grasp became stronger by how much wider Allison's eyes grew. "I can still hear her screaming for her life. I can still feel her blood in my fingernails. My family is disgusted with me, and they should be."

Peter was silent for a second before continuing. "Every single time I close my eyes, I can see her face. The question- how could I have done this to her?" Stiles could hear a crack in Peter's voice. "I loved her like she was my own daughter, and I wasn't able to stop myself from killing her, from tearing her body in two. Do you hear their screams, Allison? Can you hear Erica begging you to stop? Can you see Boyd skewered with your arrows like a piece of meat, covered in blood?"

"Peter", Stiles warned, watching Allison's feet starting to lift from the ground.

"You think I'm such a monster? You need to look deeper, Allison. The real abomination is you."

"Peter, stop." Stiles, ordered.

Peter threw Allison down to the floor, walking past them. Stiles could see Peter's eyes shining with tears before he jumped out the window, landing on his feet, and breaking out in a run.

Stiles looked at Allison, but didn't move towards her to help her up. "Are you okay?" He asked her. She nodded in response. He let out a sigh, and looked over at Cora, whose mind seemed to be moving at a hundred miles an hour, just like Derek had sometimes. "Cora?"

She shook her head. "I didn't know", she said softly, running towards the window and jumping out too. "Well, at least we know that the window's a good enough exit." Stiles managed.


	4. I won't wait to be betrayed

He decided that letting Allison work with them was something that needed to be discussed with the whole team, so Stiles rallied up the troopers and told them to meet him at Derek's loft, since it was less crowded than his bedroom.

Allison hopped in the passenger's seat next to him and Stiles could feel something twist in his stomach the second she shut the door behind her. It was the first time someone had sat there that wasn't Scott since his funeral. A part of the reason Stiles hated that motorcycle was that the new wheels disturbed the Scott and Stiles tradition of getting around. He had no problem with Scott being more independent, he just liked it better when they were together.

And now they wouldn't be again. Stiles wondered how much pain Peter was in, holding Allison against his will with a hand that was badly injured and slowly healing from wolfsbane. "You sure that you're okay?" He asked, not looking at the filled seat.

"Fine", Allison answered. "Let's go."

"It's not going to be the first time it happens", he tells her. "If you want to help, it's not going to be easy."

"I know."

He stuck the key in the ignition and sent Lydia a text. He still wanted to go to Chinatown when this was over before the store closed for the night to get some magical supplies. He had been keeping a list as he read up on things. He wanted to keep Lydia involved, but it wasn't a good idea for her to be in the loft right now.

She responded almost immediately, agreeing to drop by at his house afterwards. Stiles turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the driveway.

The drive to the loft was silent, and Stiles wished that it was a comfortable silence or something that could easily be filled with his rambling, but he and Allison never really had a relationship separate from Scott. It was only an issue now because Stiles was desperately hoping that she wouldn't bring up his name.

He wished that he hadn't offered to drive, that he didn't insist that she was in shock and shouldn't drive. He was taking her to a pack of werewolves that she once tried to kill. It wasn't going to be pretty.

When they finally made it to the parking lot, Stiles greeted the doorman and they got in the elevator. He typed in the passcode and the doors opened to an empty space.

"Stilinski and guest, master override", he said softly.

There was a whirring noise. "Override request granted."

"And guest?" Allison asked

It wasn't like Allison and Derek were best friends. He forced Stiles to make the security system blare an alarm if any of the Argents were here. Stiles shrugged instead of giving an explanation. "Go with it."

Isaac and Boyd were waiting for them. "Where are Peter and Cora?" Stiles asked, hoping they hadn't left to look for Derek yet.

"Talking upstairs. Cora said that they were already up to speed", Isaac answered.

"What is she doing here?" Boyd demanded, eyes turning gold.

"What's with you guys and the shifting first and asking questions later thing?" Stiles asked. "Cut it out. It's okay."

"It's okay for now", Boyd let out. "Talk to me when there are arrows sticking out of you everywhere you look. She'll find a place to put more."

"Did Peter and Cora tell you I'm calling the shots now?" Stiles asked

"Cora mentioned something about spells and you being the decision maker, yes." Isaac confirmed.

He didn't see anyone saying whether or not it was a good idea, so he figured he'd at least make a joke about it all. "Good. Isaac, drop and give me twenty."

Isaac had only hesitated for a split second before getting on the floor. Stiles froze at the look of terror in his eyes. It was like isaac had never met Stiles before, like he was waiting for some sort of physical blow if he didn't do exactly what Stiles asked. "I was kidding", he said as quickly as possible. "I didn't mean it, Isaac, I'm sorry." Isaac got up like nothing ever happened.

It was scary how quickly Isaac followed orders. It wasn't right.

Stiles cleared his throat a little bit and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Now, we obviously have a bit of a problem with the Alphas still", he started. "And there's something else. The Darach is still out there. Lydia's convinced that the druid's the reason Scott", Stiles stopped for a second, almost choking on the words. "Is gone."

He gave himself a couple of seconds before continuing. "I read about magical wards that can block out supernatural beings to keep places safe, and I'd like to do that with every place that we're in regularly so that we can all at least sleep at night."

"We're supernatural beings", Boyd said slowly, as if Stiles were dense. "If it works, we won't be allowed in either."

"Obviously I've thought of that", Stiles said, putting his hands on his hips defensively and rolling his eyes. "There's a spell that I can use on amulets that will let you guys get in, but the tricky part is that you can't lose it. You need to have it on you all of the time. The second someone loses it and an alpha picks it up, we're all screwed. So if you guys give me something that I can enchant that you carry around that has emotional meaning, I can get the ball rolling."

"What if it doesn't work" Isaac asked

"It won't damage it at all, and it it doesn't work, then we'll all be as safe as we are right this second", Stiles answered with a shrug. "We might as well give it a shot."

He held his hand out, but both of them were silent and not moving at all. A moment passed before Isaac answered. "I don't have anything."

"I don't either", Boyd confessed.

"I do." A voice called out from the top of the stairs. Stiles looked up at Peter, who was leaning against the railing. He grabbed a necklace out from under his shirt and pulled it over his head. He held it over the staircase and dropped it down.

Stiles caught and examined it. The pendant was a pewter eagle with its wings spread apart It was held around a thick, black cord. "Do you want to come down and join the rest of the class?" He asked. "Maybe give a history lesson?"

"My wife gave it to me on our anniversary."

"Someone married you?" Isaac blurted out. Boyd elbowed him in the stomach as Peter turned his back on the staircase, walking away.

"You know what you did", Stiles told Isaac, putting the necklace in his pocket. The second the words left his mouth, he felt his stomach lurch.

You know what that was for.

"I'm sorry, can we go back to why she's here?" Boyd asked, gesturing towards Allison, who had been silent the whole time.

"She wants to help." Stiles explained.

"My father too", she added quickly.

"You didn't say anything about your Dad", Stiles mentioned.

"With this group, I need to work with who's not going to kill me the second my back's turned", Allison answered.

"You're both supposed to be retired", Stiles told her. "If you both come out of retirement, your whole team of hunters will be too. You know", he added. "The ones that were led by Gerard."

"They won't come back unless the code's broken. Which will only happen if a werewolf kills a human."

"Which might happen if the Alphas get their hands on her", Boyd pointed out. "Which is why she shouldn't get involved."

"I want the Darach", Allison said steadily. "Do what you want with the Alphas."

"Does that mean you're just going to stand there if an Alpha decides to kill us" Isaac asked

Allison let out a frustrated sigh and looked at Stiles, hoping he'd pitch in. "Answer the question, Allison", he instructed.

"Of course I'm going to help, she snapped. "I think my Dad and I can figure out some sort of pattern with the sacrifices, see what it's looking for"

Stiles nodded. "Okay, do what you can."

"You can't be serious!" Boyd exclaimed. "Do you realize what she put us through? What she put Erica through?"

"I'm sorry", Allison tried.

"Save it. That's not good enough."

He watched Boyd getting closer to Allison, getting angrier. "Boyd." Stiles' tone was sharp, enough to get Boyd to stay still. Boyd took a breath and stepped in front of Allison. "Now, you two need to learn to take your emotions and grief and shelf it for a little while. I know it's hard and it's a lot to ask for, but this isn't an easy situation for anyone. It's got to be done. We're low in our original numbers and we need as many hands as we can."

"She can't be trusted", Isaac said.

"Scott trusted me", Allison told them.

Stiles winced, turning around so he was standing next to Isaac and Boyd and now facing Allison. "I know. And that's why we're giving you a chance."

Allison smiled. "Thanks, Stiles."

She didn't want to thank him yet. He shook his head. "If anything goes wrong and you betray us at all, I'm not going to hold them back, you understand? I'll let them break the code, and I'll let them break any hunters who come walking through here. Running away to France for the summer won't absolve you of it."

The smile on her face was suddenly replaced by terror. She nodded silently.

"Good", Stiles said cheerfully. "Let's get you home."

She turned away from Isaac and Boyd, trying to give them a small smile and waving a little bit on her way out.

Stiles waited until she closed the door behind her and looked at Isaac and Boyd. "Follow her when she does. Make sure they don't contact any hunters."

"I thought you were giving her a chance to prove herself?" Isaac asked

"I'm not waiting for anyone else to die", Stiles said evenly. "I'm not fucking around anymore."

"I'll do it", Boyd volunteered.

"You have friends here", Stiles told Boyd. "Friends and pack and family. I want you to know that, I want you to believe that. But that doesn't excuse the Alphas for what they did. You help me, and I promise we'll get Kali. I promise you you'll get first crack at her."

Boyd nodded, and Stiles turned to Isaac. "You're safe", he told him. "If the ward doesn't work, I'll find some other way to make sure that you are protected. You're safe."

Isaac didn't reply or move at all. Stiles nodded to himself, satisfied with what he just said, and ran up the stairs. "Cora?" he called out. "Cora, are you here?"

She appeared out of nowhere, unaccompanied. "Yeah?"

"Don't leave until I get the chance to test things out, okay? Give me a day to figure it out, make sure that I can actually keep these guys alive."

"Sure", she agreed, turning to leave.

"Was Peter really married?" he asked

She turned back to face him, and gave him a sad look, nodding her head. "Be careful", he told her. "I want to trust Peter, but I also don't want to find your body cut in half."

"I get it." Cora answered.

"Okay", he called back as he headed down the stairs and out the door.

She was silent on the elevator ride, and silent until she put her seatbelt back on. "I miss him too, you know."

He nodded, turning the car on.

He could find me even if I was buried at the bottom of a sewer covered in fecal matter and urine.

The one person that he counted on to help him through all of this crap wasn't here anymore, and even though everyone's grief was different, Stiles had a feeling that this was something that Allison couldn't understand, and neither could Isaac or Boyd.

He dropped Allison off and texted Lydia to say that he needed to make one more trip before he headed back to his house. He didn't wait for a reply, he just started driving and didn't stop to turn back or reconsider until he was in front of the door and knocking. He didn't think that it was a good idea to use his key.

The door opened and he saw Scott's Mom. "I wondered when you would stop by", she said softly.

"I'm sorry", he said, afraid to look her in the eye. "He's my responsibility when things like this happen and we stay someplace overnight, and I let you down. I took the only family you have left. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

Mrs. McCall let out a breath and stepped forward. For a split second, Stiles wondered if she would slap him across the face, but she held him in his arms instead. "Oh, sweetheart. It's not your fault."

He was starting to feel ridiculous, bursting into tears every time something happened that reminded him of Scott. The second he felt Mrs. McCall wrap her arms around him, Stiles felt the tears rolling down. It was selfish- she was the one who should be crying, she's the one who lost a son. She's the one who was all alone now. But he couldn't stop himself from sobbing. "I miss him so much."

She was the only one who understood what he was feeling. His father did the same thing he did when his mother died- work a lot, drink at the end of the night to drown the pain, and refuse to mention it, as if Scott had never existed. When Mom died, Stiles spent time with Scott, talking about comic books and eating Mrs. McCall's brownies. He could smell the chocolate through the door.

"It's real, isn't it?" She asked him. "He's not just stuck at school, you're not just playing a prank on me."

He was familiar with the feeling.

"It's not April", he told her, remembering the time he and Scott put her stethoscope in the freezer while she was sleeping. She looked for it for an hour before she found it, shaking her head and putting parts of the stethoscope on their skin, shocking them with the cold and tickling them on the couch.

It was a good memory, but Stiles was starting to remember how good memories turn sour when they involve someone who isn't there anymore.

She let out a tearful laugh, holding him tighter. "No, it's not April."

"Please don't blame Scott for what happened", Stiles begged. "It wasn't his fault."

She pulled back and sniffled, wiping away a tear. "The report said it was a suicide."

"Something made him do it", he informed her, hands on both of her shoulders. "I'm not sure how or why, but we're going to get it. I promise you we will. Whatever it takes. I'm going to figure this out."

His phone beeped with an incoming text, and Stiles let her go to pull the phone out of his pocket. Lydia was asking where he was.

"I should get going, he said. "But I'll come by again, I promise."

"I have some brownies cooling inside. You want some for the road?"

"Sure."

They stepped into the house and Stiles remembered that Isaac lived here too, was probably heading back here at some point. Or maybe he wasn't now that both Scott and Derek were dead and Cora was leaving with Peter.

"Does Isaac still stay here?" He asked

Mrs. McCall pulled out a small empty container. "Yeah, he keeps me company."

"You don't mind, do you?" Stiles asked, thinking of the way Isaac just dropped down, like he had no control over his body. "I just...don't want either of you to be alone right now, but if Isaac brings up bad memories, I understand. I can ask my Dad if he can stay with us if it'll make it easier."

"I don't mind", Mrs. McCall answered as she put some brownies in the container.. "I like having him here. He's a good kid."

"Yeah, he is", Stiles agreed. It was the truth- Isaac was a good person, who deserved a hell more than what he got. Nobody told him why he suddenly moved out of Derek's loft and in here. Stiles wished he had the good sense to ask.

If he managed to set up a magical ward of protection, this would be the second place he did it on. He wanted to make sure that both his father and Scott's mom were protected. He was tired of the wrong people dying around here.

Mrs. Mccall closed the lid and handed Stiles the container. "Don't be a stranger, Stiles."

"I won't", he promised, taking it. "Thanks, Mrs. McCall", he said, giving her a one-armed hug before leaving.

***

"Geez, Stiles, you think we've got enough mountain ash?" Lydia asked, glancing at the huge sack in the shopping cart.

"It's like a baker buying flour", he explained. "It's in pretty much everything we need, like it's the key to it all."

"Everything here's powdered", she remarked. "You're a speeding ticket and a suspicious look away from having your car inspected for cocaine."

"This face?" He asked, taking his hands and lifting his chin with them. "This face could do no wrong."

"The cart explains more than the face", she said. "And the cart's saying that you're ready for a supernatural bomb."

"This is just the basics", he said, taking a can of red paint from the shelf.

"What do you need from paint?" She asked "And why does this place only stock red? What's wrong with green, or something a little less like a crime scene?"

"You saw that book on runes", he reminded her. "This is how I'm going to tap into them, if everything goes well and Peter's not wrong about me."

"You shouldn't listen to a word he tells you", she said, taking another can of paint and dropping it into the cart with a loud bang. "It's not going to end well for you."

"Funny, that's what he said about Allison", he commented.

"Well, obviously I'm right and he's not."

"Have you been feeling anything recently?" Stiles asked. "Not knowing where you end up?"

"No, why?"

He was silent for a moment, taking a breath. "I need to ask you a favor."

"As long as it doesn't have anything to do with pickled sea slugs", she said, grabbing the bag, inspecting it, and tossing it back on the shelf.

"If Scott tries to contact you somehow, to get back. I know it traumatized the crap out of you and scared you, but I don't think Scott would do that to you. Could you just...do what he needs?"

She nodded. "I think I can do that. But Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"It's illogical to hope that it would happen."

Stiles sighed, tightening his grip on the shopping cart handle. "I know. But on the other hand, it's illogical for me to be the leader of a pack of werewolves, right?"

She scoffed, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Trust me, the rest of them are incredibly dense sometimes."

He smiled. "Want a brownie?"


	5. I'm painting myself red

"How long is it going to take?" Stiles heard Boyd say on the speakerphone.

"Grab the powdered toadstool for me quick", he said to Lydia, stirring the pot quickly. "Thanks", he replied, grabbing the bag from her hands.

He had a good retort for this, but he swallowed the words. He didn't want to make Star Wars references anymore, didn't want to call Boyd his young Padawan, tell him to be patient.

"Just hang on one second", he said instead, opening the baggie and sticking his hand inside. He pulled out some of the powder and dumped it into the pot.

A bright light emitted from the pot, and Stiles covered it quickly. "Probably should have used a hood", Lydia told him.

"I didn't know that was going to happen. But that's the last ingredient. It should be ready."

"It reacted like burning magnesium", she pointed out. "But there's no fire. If we're going to use your bedroom as a makeshift lab, we're going to have to do a better job."

"Peter and Cora are okay with us using Derek's loft in the meantime", Stiles told her, opening the lid reluctantly, relief spreading across his face when he wasn't attacked with sparks.

"Dying of old age here." Boyd said on the phone.

"Relax, it's ready", Stiles told him, dumping some of the liquid in vials and the rest in a bowl. He grabbed the vials, one of Deaton's books, and some mountain ash.

He walked outside of his house and nodded to Boyd, who disconnected the call and slipped his cell phone back in his pocket. "The Argents are out in the woods right now, investigating that woman who was killed outside of the tent, trying to see if there's a pattern."

"Isaac's tailing them, isn't he?" Stiles asked

"Yeah, but he shouldn't be out there with them alone."

"Lydia, take this and get on the other side of the door. When I count to three, we're going to both throw it at the same time."

"It needs to happen at the same time?" Boyd asked

"Nah, I just think it'd be cool", Stiles said, handing her the vial, watching her roll her eyes as she walked in the other direction and closed the door. "Look, Isaac's going to be okay. You guys are following them around because you wanted to as a precaution."

"I don't trust them."

"I know. That's why I'm not calling you crazy and telling you to back out. There's justified suspicion, and Peter might kill them and ask questions later, which is unhelpful since they'd already be dead." Stiles held the vial in between his fingers as he opened the book and flipped to the right page.

"And you think I won't?"

"You won't kill them without asking for an explanation", Stiles said. His tone was more of an order than an indication of knowing Boyd's reaction. "Got it?"

"Yeah, I've got it", Boyd replied.

"Peachy." Stiles took a deep breath and glanced over the text. Lydia had wanted to reword the incantation, she said that it wasn't grammatically correct Latin. Stiles decided to keep it as is, at least to test it out. "You need to step back for this. Just a little bit farther away from me. I don't want you anywhere near mountain ash."

Boyd stepped back and Stiles started reading. "Ego clypeum eorum crudelis de ferro et viribus animo prohibere. Nisi invitatis, vos quia non praeteribit."

Nothing happened, but he wasn't finished yet. "Lydia, now." They threw the vials at the door, and Stiles watched the wood of the door look like it was absorbing the liquid until the door was spotless. He threw some mountain ash on the door, and watched that disappear as well.

He opened the door to check Lydia's side. The liquid didn't disappear on her end until Stiles traced the mark, as if his touch jump-started the process. He threw some mountain ash on that side of the door too.

"I guess I can't do what you can", Lydia concluded.

"We'll find out what you can do", Stiles promised. "We will." He waved Boyd over. "Try getting in now."

Boyd shrugged and started walking towards the door. He was a foot away from the doorway when he was suddenly thrown out in the opposite direction, flying away from the house and into the woods.

_Oh my God, it's working! YES! I did something._

"Where did he go?" Stiles asked, running out of the house and looking around before taking out his phone and dialing. "If I accidentally sent him to Narnia or something, I'm going to be really mad."

He put the phone up to his ears and waited until Boyd picked up. "It worked."

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked. "Any injuries? Do you feel different?"

"Well, I was bruised for two seconds before it healed. Other than that, I'm fine."

"Good", Stiles said, feeling relieved that his one supernatural guinea pig didn't just get mortally wounded. "Are you far? Get back here and I'll have a blessed amulet waiting for you so you can get in."

Boyd agreed and Stiles ended the call, heading back inside. He was glad that it worked, intrigued at the possibility of this all, excited that he could actually protect his Dad and defend himself if he needed to. But he couldn't shake the feeling creeping in of what this all meant.

_Break it. Scott's dying! Stiles, I just know! Break it!_

Only supernatural beings who are granted protection can get inside. Scott didn't have protection. If he suddenly sprang back to life and his one instinct was to rush over to the house and let Stiles know that he was okay, it wouldn't work. Scott wouldn't be able to get inside.

"They're nice pendants", Lydia remarked as Stiles stepped back inside of the house and stuck the necklaces in the bowl with potion inside. "Why is that one different?" She asked, pointing at the necklace with the eagle pendant.

"It's Peter's", he answered. "And thank you, I got them custom made."

"You shouldn't give him access", Lydia told him.

"Allison and her father have access just by being human. If they're able to roam freely, I'm giving the same courtesy to Peter."

"And Cora, who we don't know anything about."

"They're leaving town tomorrow", Stiles told her. "Relax."

"I'm just saying that if you have Isaac and Boyd watching out for the Argents, you should have someone watching out for Peter."

"That's what Cora's doing."

"Who we don't know anything about", she repeated.

"Peter was right about me, wasn't he?" Stiles asked

"We don't know what his endgame is. And there's always something."

"And I don't know if Allison is going to go on another rampage. You know their family motto is 'We hunt those who hunt us'? We don't know if she'll decide to turn around and think that she's being hunted."

"Allison's our friend", Lydia said, pointing a pair of tweezers at him.

Stiles took them. "My eyebrows are fine, thank you." He grabbed a necklace with the tweezers and set it on a bounty, folding it over and patting the necklace dry. "She is our friend", he agreed.

"So can you cut her a little slack?"

He shook his head. "I can't do that to Isaac and Boyd."

"Do what to Isaac and Boyd?" Boyd called out from the distance.

"Tell you guys that for werewolves, you're really crappy runners", Stiles said instead, taking the necklace and stepping out of the threshold, throwing it in Boyd's direction, who caught it easily.

He watched as Boyd rubbed his thumb over the pendant and raised his eyebrows at Stiles. "You know what this represents?"

"I know enough", Stiles answered.

"He would have appreciated it', Boyd told him, putting the cord over his head and pulling it down to his neck. "Is it silver?"

_No, you idiot._

"I love the irony", Stiles answered.

"What are you guys talking about?" Lydia asked

"Nothing", Stiles said, walking backwards through the door. "Try getting back in the house now", he directed at Boyd, who nodded. This time, he walked right in without any trouble. "Don't lose it", he told Boyd. "I figured if it meant something, you wouldn't."

"Does anyone want to fill me in on what it means?" Lydia asked

Stiles turned to another necklace stewing in the bowl and reached for the tweezers, pulling it out and not saying a word.

"It's a triskelion", Boyd told her.

"I got that", she said irritated. "Why is it here? Why is it important? Why do you both look so sulky all of a sudden?"

"It has different meanings to different people", Boyd explained. "Usually represents things in threes."

"So?"

He remembered Scott screaming when Derek put the flame to his skin. If Stiles knew what was going to happen to him, he wouldn't have held him down. Wouldn't have let a single flame touch him.

He wondered what compelled Derek to do that to himself, who helped him brand his skin. He wondered if someone held Derek down or held his hand to help with the pain.

Maybe Cora and Peter were so desperate to find a body because they wanted to give him a proper funeral. Derek wasn't allowed to give Erica one.

"It was important enough for Derek to brand it on his back", Stiles quickly before turning back to Boyd, giving him the necklace. "I need you to give this to Isaac. Don't lose it."

"Sure, no problem."

"Lydia, I've got the cleanup here. You can go home."

"Are you sure?" She asked

Stiles nodded. He waited both of them to leave before he started cleaning up. There was a small imprint on his palm of the triskelion from gripping the pendant too tightly. He turned to all of the ingredients spread out in front of him, storing them where he had hid them.

He grabbed some red paint and took out another book on drawing magic from runes. He started drawing the runes on himself, muttering spells and watching in the mirror as the paint faded into his skin. He held his hand out in the direction of a book that was on the other side of the room, and watched with fascination as it flew into his hand.

He drew another rune on himself to help protect him, and dropped the remaining amulets in his pocket before leaving the house. He locked his front door and was walking over to his Jeep when his father pulled into the driveway and got out of the car.

"Hey, where are you headed off to?"

"Library", he lied. "Need to check out a couple of books for an assignment."

"Your coach called me this afternoon", Dad started. "He says that you haven't been showing up for practice."

Stiles shrugged. "It's cross-country. Not planning on running across the country anytime soon, so I don't think it's a big loss."

"I'm worried about you, kiddo. You're always busy, always going somewhere. You know it's good to keep with the regular routines."

That's what they told him when he started getting panic attacks after Mom died. Funny, Dad never liked bringing her up or her death. Rarely talked about her. He wished that the same applied to Scott now.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Stiles, I know it's not easy right now"

"-I said, I don't want to talk about it", he repeated firmly. "I have to go to the library."

"I scheduled an appointment with the guidance counselor for tomorrow morning. I'd like you to go."

Funny, Dad refused to talk to a grief counselor. All he needed was his friend Jack. Stiles was a little young to figure out what that meant.

"Are you asking or ordering?" Stiles asked

"I'm just trying to help you", Dad told him.

Stiles heard the unspoken words. He was trying to help before he needed to go on anti-anxiety medications again.

He took a breath. "Okay, I'll see her. But she's going to tell you I'm fine."

"You planning on bribing her?"

"I plan on going to the library", Stiles said, unlocking the Jeep with a beep and walking over to the driver's side, opening the door and getting in. He turned the ignition and buckled his seatbelt. "I'll see you when I get back."

"My night-shift starts tomorrow. I'd like to enjoy an evening with my son."

"I have work to do", Stiles said before pulling out of the driveway.

When he got to the loft, he saw Cora and Peter there with duffel bags. "What are the chances of you guys staying an extra day?"

"Your experiment didn't work?" Cora asked

"No, it did", Stiles answered, pulling out two amulets and tossing them to each person. "Put these on and don't lose them."

"Then why do you need us to stay?" She asked

"I go to school with two Alpha werewolves who might attack us at any given moment. I need to do something about it."

"I thought your main goal was to find the Darach", Cora pointed out.

"If it's working with the Alphas, it won't be good news."

"I don't think that's likely", Peter told him.

"Why?"

"It looks like the Darach's an emissary gone rogue." Peter answered.

"An emissary? What's that?" Stiles asked

"An advisor for werewolves. Every pack has one."

"Like Deaton", Stiles said bitterly.

"Your guidance counselor is Deucalion's emissary", Cora told him.

Scott told Stiles that he could have sworn that Morrell was the one who sealed that bank vault with mountain ash. She was probably waiting for everything with Gerard and the Kanima to be resolved so that she could give Deucalion the green light to get to Beacon Hills.

"Are you serious?" Stiles asked. "And you guys have been sitting on this information the whole time?"

"Didn't think it was important", Cora answered.

"I shared some really personal things with her!"

"Did she give you any good advice?"

He didn't answer. He still felt like he was drowning. "Peter, can I see your laptop?"

Peter unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out a metal briefcase, unbuckling it and lifting the cover. It looked like he was ready to make a cash exchange for drugs or something.

"Okay, what you're going to do is open a Word document and just start typing things that you know. Subject doesn't matter, just anything that you know."

"Are you giving me a homework assignment, Stiles?" Peter asked with a chuckle

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm making you a team player."

"We have to look for Derek", Cora told him. "There's no time for this."

Stiles picked up the laptop. "This is pretty portable. Just email me what you've got every night and we'll call it a day." He turned the laptop's location discovery on before closing it and fitting it back in the case. "You realize that Deucalion's pack is filled with Alphas, right? So the Darach could be the emissary of anyone there?"

"What are you going to do?" Cora asked as Peter silently put the silver case back in his duffel bag.

"Start with the two I know and get an answer."

"You're just going to strike up a chat?" Peter asked "You're going to get yourself killed."

"Yeah, well." Stiles turned to Cora's bag and curled his index finger, watching as the bag came towards him. "You were right about me."

Cora looked impressed, but Peter stepped forward. "Magic is physically fatiguing. I wouldn't use it flippantly."

"I don't plan on using it for household chores", Stiles assured him.

"The confidence is what fuels it, but I wouldn't go too far. If you do too much too soon, it could kill you."

"I'll be fine", Stiles told them. "We have bigger things to worry about. I have a meeting with Ms. Morrell tomorrow morning, and she might be the one out to kill everyone. And the Alpha twins are in half of my classes."

"You need backup?" Cora asked

"If Peter's right and what we're dealing with is a werewolf pack emissary that's gone bad, we need to figure out whose emissary it is. If we can't do that, we need to figure out a pattern so that we don't have more sacrifices on our hands. The Argents are working on the pattern."

"Sure, that'll work", Peter scoffed.

Stiles narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "I'm not stupid, they're being observed." He let out a sigh. "Ethan owes me. I think I can get him to talk, but only if I can manage to separate him from his meaner, nastier half."

"You need us to physically separate them?"

Stiles gave Peter a smile, patting him on the back before heading out the door. "Oh, Peter. Don't be boring." He turned to Cora. "I'll be in touch. Get some sleep."

He sat in the office silently, looking straight at Mrs. Morrell. She was looking back. He didn't know how long they were in there for, he just knew that he wasn't going to be the first one to talk.

"Your father called for this meeting because he's concerned for you", she finally started.

He smiled a little bit at the small victory. "I'm aware."

"The last time you were in here, you were open and honest. And now you're closed off. Guarded."

Last time he was willing to trust her. The last time, she was just another guidance counselor where things could be made vague instead of explaining the full situation. The last time, he and Scott rolled their eyes together at the fact that they even needed to be here, spilling their guts to a complete stranger.

There's no limit to what Morrell was or what she could do if she was a stranger the last time and she's suddenly Deucalion's emissary now. She's a suspect now. This wasn't a counseling session, this was an interrogation room on both sides.

"A lot's happened since then", he answered.

"The grief of a loved one varies with each individual. Especially when the loved one committed suicide."

"He didn't commit suicide", Stiles replied immediately.

Morrell gave him a confused look. "That's what's listed on the autopsy report", she said slowly. "Denial is understandable."

"You're contradicting yourself", Stiles interrupted. "You said that grief varies with the individual, and now you're quoting the five stages of grief to me."

"Are you sleeping?" Morrell asked, changing the subject.

"I'm doing great", Stiles lied. "I had a dream about a unicorn the other day. What do you think that means? Am I an ordinary horse hoping to be special and rare?"

She flipped through a folder on her desk. "The last time you were in here, you said that you were fine, except for the lack of sleep and feeling that something terrible was about to happen. You described the sensation as a panic attack."

Stiles looked out the window for a second and let out a sigh. "Funny", he started, tilting his head towards the woman. "I don't need a read off a page to remember what I said."

"You felt helpless then", she said, shutting the file. "And watching as your best friend committed suicide, sitting at his funeral- it's understandable that the helplessness has translated to denial. Because if you're in denial, it means that you didn't miss the signs of depression."

Stiles leaned in and straightened a crooked pencil on her desk. "If you're trying to help me deal with the pain, then isn't keeping me in denial helping me from experiencing the trauma?"

She pressed her arms on the table and leaned on them, looking directly at him. "I'd prefer it if you could reach acceptance."

"You know what I think?" Stiles asked, staring right back. "I think that you'd prefer it if I was trapped in depression. It would be more favorable to the side you're on."

Morrell froze in place, and Stiles sat back against his chair, satisfied with her reaction. "Am I still in denial, Ms. Morrell? You want to tell me with our lives that something as normal", he said the last word with a bitter taste in his mouth, "is what killed Scott? You think that with the couple of times you've spoken to him and the case files you've read that you know him better than I do?"

_"It's just…" Stiles started again, reluctantly, trying to pay attention to the game, but failing miserable. "I want to help, you know? But I can't do the things that you can do. I can't."_

_He thought for a split second that Scott was going to tell him that he wasn't good enough. He thought maybe by saying this to him, he was giving Scott more of a burden than he needed right now. But instead, Scott looked at him, and Stiles could tell that wasn't the case._

_"It's okay."_

"His father bailed on him, and his Mom can pay the bills by herself, but to feel like he's not just freeloading, he got his own part-time job to pitch in", Stiles started. "He had to deal with murderers and crazy lizards and insane hunters and in the spare time that he had in between all of it, he worked hard to better himself. I never saw him because he was so busy trying to prove that he could be better. He aced all of his summer classes, saved up and bought a stupid motorcycle so that nobody would have to tow him around anymore, even though none of us minded, and he was preparing to go to college. He was planning his future and becoming his own person instead of cleaning out his locker so that other people wouldn't have to."

He stopped for a second, taking a deep breath.

"You want to know how I am?" He asked, his voice completely under control and his eyes not filling with tears for once. "I cleaned out his locker so that his mother wouldn't have to do that. It's in a pile under my bed, all of it. Solved physics problems and economics notes and scribbles of how to convince Allison to give him a second chance so that they could have a life together. I know that it wasn't suicide, and you know that it isn't either, not with the lives that we lead. So why don't you stop wasting my time and yours?"

"You're not going to cross-country practice, you leave school early", Ms. Morrell trailed off.

"My grades are the same as they were before, and I haven't heard of any complaints from my teachers", Stiles shot back.

"Your only complaints before were from Mr. Harris"

"Looks like I won that argument", Stiles answered cheerfully.

"Are you confessing to something?" Ms. Morrell asked

"Not at all", he answered. "I'm just having fun."

"This is not supposed to be fun. This is supposed to be a counselling session", she told him sternly.

"I'm fine", Stiles assured her.

"You witnessed a traumatic event", she said plainly. "There are repercussions. If you don't want to speak with me, that's understandable. I can refer you to somebody else."

"I can manage", Stiles said as the bell rang, getting up from his seat and picking up his backpack, heading towards the door.

"Avoidance will just make it worse. I want to help you."

_"It's going to be bad, isn't it? I mean, like people screaming, running for their lives, blood, killing, maiming kind of bad?"_

He wasn't helpless this time. He turned around to face her, his hand still resting on the silver knob. He shook his head. "I don't need your help", he told her. "I'm preparing for a war, and you're on the wrong side."


	6. I will fracture my own heart

Stiles pulled Lydia to the side of the hallway after their last class. "I need you to do something for me", he told her.

"Depends on what it is."

"I don't think you're going to like it too much", he said, letting out a sigh and feeling ridiculous. "I need you to sleep with Aiden."

"I've...already done that", she shrugged. "Checked off my list. What else?"

"No, I need you to take him back to his house and sleep with him so that I can separate the twins and get answers from Ethan. It'll just be a one-time thing, Lydia, I promise."

"Why do you need to separate them?" She asked

"The Darach", he said in a soft voice. "It could be a werewolf pack emissary. Like, some sort of magical tribal leader who gives advice to werewolves. I think Ethan could help us figure out who it is."

"You think it's one of theirs?"

"It could be anyone's in that pack", he clarified. "But if anyone would know whose it is, it would be the people in the pack, right? And as of right now, Ethan's the best chance we've got. The rest of them aren't exactly cuddly."

"Do you want me to try to get it out of Aiden?"

"I don't think we need that", Stiles told her. "I don't want you in the line of fire. I just want to separate them. It's like they're both still in the womb."

Lydia let out a laugh. "Okay, I'll take him back to my place. But it'll have to be after cross-country practice. That's the only window you'll have today."

Well, that was easy. "I thought you'd fight me more on this", he admitted as they started walking.

"It's a fling", she said bluntly. "I'm not in love with him. I wouldn't have started sleeping with him in the first place if someone had decided to tell me that he was an Alpha."

"I thought you knew", he explained. "I thought maybe Allison or Scott told you."

"You know what they say about assuming", Lydia, tossing her hair over her shoulders. "You might want to tail Ethan after practice, though, regardless of whether or not he gives you information. See if there's some sort of Alpha headquarters."

Stiles nodded. "There haven't been any more sacrifices", he mentioned. "I checked my Dad's files this morning while he was sleeping. Nothing new. What do you think that means?"

Lydia's eyes widened. "Maybe", she started, pausing for a second. "Maybe it means that it got what it needed. Maybe a werewolf was worth three human sacrifices."

"Or maybe it's feeding off of deaths that the Alpha pack delivered on", Stiles tried. "Erica", he counted on a finger. "Derek", he counted another finger. "And now…"

"Three werewolves. Maybe she needed one of each phase. Alpha, beta, omega."

"Scott wasn't an omega", Stiles said automatically.

"He didn't have a pack", Lydia told him.

_Stiles was working on his homework when Scott knocked on the door before letting himself in. Scott was pale when he walked in. Stiles shot up from his desk and walked over to him, giving him a quick look-over. There was no blood, no healed over wounds._

_"Scott, what happened? Are you okay?"_

_"There was an Omega", Scott mumbled. "Allison's grandfather caught him and sliced him in half with a sword. Derek said it was a declaration of war."_

_Stiles grabbed him and pulled him in for a hug. "It's going to be okay. We'll beat 'em, Scott. Like we always do."_

"He wasn't an Omega", Stiles repeated. "He wasn't alone."

"Stiles, that's not what I meant."

He nodded. "I know."

"It's just a theory", she added. "And it doesn't fit if Derek's not dead."

Stiles let out a hollow laugh. "Trust me. Derek wouldn't fake his own death or abandon his pack."

"And you know this for a fact, because…?"

He shrugged, stopping at his locker and trying the combination. "I just know."

"That's not an argument", Lydia told him as he pulled his locker door open and rested his backpack on the end, putting another book inside. "They're tough, the Hales. I want to know what kind of vitamins they take in the morning. Or what kind of Wheaties they eat."

Stiles laughed, zipping the bag and closing the door. "Lots of scowling. Repeat until match desired result", he told her. "I feel like we should be focusing on the fact that I'm pimping you out to Aiden."

"Are you carrying a cane or wearing a hat with feathers coming out of it?" Lydia asked

"I could be!"

"I can take care of it. I volunteered, I've got it. You just get the information you need."

"No sex without safe sex", he told her. "The last thing we need is alpha werewolf spawn running around."

"Trust me, I don't have to worry about that for a while." She said the words quietly, looking down for a split second, about to walk away from him.

"Hey", he stopped her. "What happened just then?"

A smile was plastered back on her face. It came back quickly- Stiles recognized the fakeness because he was doing enough of it himself. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here", he told her.

"I'm good", she said, clearing her throat and smiling wider. "I've got an Alpha to bang in a couple of hours. See you later."

She flew past him before he could say anything else. He let out a sigh and walked into the bathroom, getting into a stall and checking the time. 2 hours. He set a timer on his phone and stripped his shirt, resting it on his shoulder as he unzipped his backpack and pulled out a small bottle of red paint and one of the books on runes. He flipped to a page and rested it on held it against the door with his knee, putting some of the paint on his index finger and drawing the symbols slowly and accurately on his skin before waiting for the red to sink into his skin and disappear.

The symbols were for strength and power. He wondered if one existed for courage. He kept drawing symbols into his skin until the timer went off. He flipped the cap of the paint back on, and slipped it back in his backpack, zipping it closed and pulling his shirt back on.

If he didn't trail Ethan, there was no chance of dying at the end of this. Bad guys were notorious for having bad tempers, and if he died today, a werewolf in Beacon Hills would have killed a human, and they wouldn't just be dealing with the Alphas and an Emissary gone wrong, there'd be a war with hunters as well. If that ended up being the case, then the werewolves would have to band together, all of them. And if the Emissary was working with the Alphas, it meant that they'd have to work with that person too. Stiles would be leaving them behind with a bigger mess.

But he needed to do this. He needed to find Scott's killer, no matter what it took.

He held his hands out, palms facing the ceiling and curled his fingers a couple of times before shaking his arms and hitting the edges of the bathroom stall he was in. He pulled his arms in quickly and his face contorted in pain.

"Good job. Now, magnify that pain by a million if this goes south", he muttered to himself, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and opening the door of the bathroom stall, leaving the bathroom and waiting around the corner of the boy's locker room, counting person after person leaving. He spotted Lydia waiting outside the door, arms crossed and leaning with one foot against a random locker.

She grabbed one of the twins and pulled him close to her, and kissing him frantically. Stiles had no idea how he was able to tell them apart, so he nodded and walked past them to follow Ethan. Lydia's eyes were open as he walked past them, her eyes wide and moving in the direction that Ethan was in.

Stiles gave her a quick thumbs up of encouragement and bolted past the two of them, out the side doors. He followed Ethan and somehow ended up in the woods. What was with werewolves and the woods? Was it some sort of patterns that they needed to set up camp in the woods? The only house around here was Derek's old house.

If Deucalion had a huge tent somewhere, Stiles would laugh. If he lived in an RV, it would be equally as funny, and it would explain why they were so hard to find over the summer.

Suddenly, Ethan turned around and was looking right at Stiles, who didn't have time to hide behind the nearest tree, so he just put his hand on the bark and pretended to be studying it. "Yeah, looks like good, sturdy wood", he said, eyes drifting towards Ethan. "Hey there!" He greeted cheerfully, pretending to see Ethan for the first time. "Are you", Stiles cleared his throat. "Studying trees in the forest too?"

"You're following me", Ethan said plainly.

"Me?" Stiles asked, pointing at himself. "No, I'm studying trees. Dendrology." He was silent for a second. "I want to be...a dendrologist?"

"A dendrologist."

"It's a branch of botany. Are you making fun of my hobbies? I'm offended!"

"Just tell me what you're doing here", Ethan told him impatiently.

"Fine, we'll stop beating around the bush", Stiles agreed. "I need some answers, you technically owe me."

Ethan held out his hands and the claws came out. "I'm an Alpha. I don't owe you anything."

"Yeah?" Stiles asked. "Well, you're an Alpha that nearly died in that Motel. And to be honest, you're much too confident and put together to me to be considered as a suicidal. Or suicidal enough to want to slice your body in half with a saw. Like it or not, I saved your life. And doing that ended another one, a life that was really important to me, okay? So yes, you owe me."

"Fine." Ethan agreed, but the claws were still out. "What do you want to know?"

"There was something around the motel that night who was controlling you. We think that it's what's responsible for the random deaths in this town, and we think that it's a werewolf emissary. And your entire pack is made up of people who had emissaries at some point, so it could be any of them. I know that Ms. Morrell is Deucalion's, but she doesn't seem like the one. For a split second, I thought it was Deaton, but he's out of town. So I figure maybe yours is up to something."

Ethan shook his head. "I don't know about everyone else", he started. "But Deucalion made us kill ours, along with everyone else in our pack."

"He made you kill your advisor?" Stiles asked. "Isn't that kind of stupid? What with them being wise and all? If he's doubling up on Alphas, then wouldn't it make sense to double up on emissaries too? It would come in handy to make decisions."

"We were told to cut all ties with our old pack."

Stiles remembered the tears in Peter's eyes when he talked about Laura Hale. "That doesn't hurt you?" He asked. "You don't feel guilty at all for killing them? For joining the person who made you kill them?"

"Deucalion is like a father to me", Ethan said through clenched teeth, eyes turning red.

"Alright sorry, sensitive subject", Stiles tried.

"You look different", Ethan mentioned, stepping forward. "There's something different about you when I look at you like this. There's power, no fear."

"I don't know what you're talking about", Stiles told him, starting to back away.

"Deucalion would want you dead", Ethan started. "He'd want you eliminated."

"I'm just me", Stiles continued. "I'm human. I'm not anything. You know what'll happen if you try to kill a human? You'll start a war between the werewolves and the hunters. We don't need that right now, okay?"

"You're not just a human", Ethan growled, suddenly growing larger.

The ground crunched and shook underneath him as Ethan charged towards Stiles. In a split second, Stiles threw his arms up in front of his face and Ethan was sent flying in the opposite direction. A bright light came from his hands and the only thing he was able to hear was a loud crunching noise that created a pit in his stomach. Stiles struggled to see through the bright light, and waited for it to fade before he saw the body.

Ethan had crashed into a tree, splitting it in half, and was leaning against the half that hadn't fallen to the side. His neck was snapped in two, and it looked like he wasn't breathing.

Stiles ran over to him, and checked for a pulse. There was nothing there. "No, no, no, you're not dead, you're fine. I didn't kill you, that's not happening right now

He tried to position Ethan's neck so that it was in the proper place so that he could heal, but nothing happened. "What's the point of you people being werewolves if you can't heal?" He asked "Come on. Do something."

He tried to pick Ethan up or help somehow, but nothing worked. There was blood gushing out of his mouth, falling directly on Stiles' sleeve. "Thank you, that was beautiful. I need you to heal now, okay?"

Nothing happened.

_In the split second before he saw that Boyd was okay, Stiles felt a sudden pain in his stomach, and when it was over, he didn't care about the confirmation that Boyd was fine. "We have to find Scott", he said, holding his side. "Scott's in trouble."_

_"How do you know?" Allison asked him_

_"I can feel it. We have to find him."_

_"I'll check his room", Allison told him._

_"I'm going with you", he said, running out of the room._

_"There's a flare left on the bus, right?" Lydia asked, following him._

_"Yeah, I think so."_

_"I'll get it." They were heading down the stairs when they saw Scott standing there, holding the flare and doused in kerosene._

_Stiles ran over to Scott, but it was too late. Scott had already dropped the flare._

Stiles took out his phone and called Cora. "You have to get to Lydia", he said quickly. "Ethan's dead and Aiden knows. He's going to lash out. Lydia's in trouble."

"What the hell happened?" Cora asked on the other end

"I killed him. I'm on the Preserve and I killed him. It was an accident. Self-defense? It doesn't matter. You have to get to Aiden and Lydia at her house right now."

"How can Aiden know?"

"Because he can feel it. Just trust me. Go right now." Stiles hung up the phone and looked at the body in front of him. "You people need to come with some sort of manual. There's got to be something that I can do to help. I didn't mean to do that. I'm not a murderer, I can't possibly be. Dad'll kill me."

Right on cue, his phone started ringing. It was his father.

"Oh God, he knows. He has actual super powers. He doesn't have a clue about werewolves, but he can tell the instant that I committed a crime."

Stiles couldn't pick up the phone, there was no way that he was going to pick up the phone and have a friendly chat with his father in front of Ethan's dead body. Especially since Ethan's body was dead because of Stiles. No way in hell.

"Stiles." Cora came out of nowhere from behind him, pulling him up on his feet. "What happened?"

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "I told you to get to Lydia. She's the one in trouble here, not me. I'm going to jail, and probably to hell, but I'm fine physically."

"Isaac and Boyd weren't answering. Peter's at Lydia's house, she'll be fine."

"Peter?" Stiles gulped. "You sent Peter to Lydia's house? Are you crazy?"

"You said that you killed Ethan. We need to take care of this before the authorities show up."

"No", Stiles told her. "We have to get to Lydia. Right now."

"I told you she's fine", Cora assured him. "He'll keep her safe."

"You don't understand", he said, as he heard his phone chime with a new voicemail from his father. "You don't know what Peter did to her."

Stiles must have broken half a dozen traffic laws, but nobody pulled him over, which was fortunate, since the blood drying on his shirt didn't exactly portray innocence. He kept calling Lydia and Peter, but there was no response.

He still remembered the words on the chalkboard. He knew that they spelled out, but he still took a picture with his cell phone and changed the image around to verify it, just in case.

_Somebody help me._

He was there on the night of the dance when she was attacked. He was there, begging Peter not to kill her, doing anything to make sure that she would stay alive.

_"Just kill me, I don't care anymore."_

"I'm sorry", Cora said, breaking the silence. "I didn't know."

He was silent for a couple of minutes, not glancing at Cora, who was staring at him. He really hated it when there were people in the Jeep who weren't the usual suspects.

"We're here", he finally said, pulling into the driveway and turning off the ignition. He ran out of the Jeep and into Lydia's unlocked front door, taking the stairs three at a time.

"I'm not going to hurt you", he heard Peter say. "Aiden's dead. It's over."

"Get away from me!" Lydia screamed as Stiles pushed open the door.

She was wearing a blue plush robe and was sitting on the floor next to her nightstand. The drawer of the nightstand was open, and she was clutching a large meat cleaver in both of her hands. Stiles stepped into the room in time to see her stabbing Peter in the leg with the knife, before she started screaming her head off.

It was just loud screaming to Stiles, but he saw Peter fall to his knees on the floor, clutching his ears and in pain. When Stiles looked at Cora, she saw that she was on the floor too, covering her ears.

Aiden was wearing boxers and covered in slashes on the other side of the room. There was blood all over Lydia's wood floor and on the walls. Stiles looked at Aiden and then at Lydia before looking at Peter again.

She was able to hear dead voices in the Motel. She was able to see Peter when he was dead, and she kept finding dead bodies. The pieces fell into place. She wasn't able to practice magic like him because she was already something else. Lydia wasn't screaming her head off, she was wailing. Like a banshee. He walked over to where she was screaming and took her hands off of the handle of the knife that was now hanging off of Peter's leg.

He positioned himself so that he was in front of her so that she couldn't see the dead body or Peter. "Lydia, look at me." He put his hands on her shoulders. "You're okay. He's not going to hurt you. You're safe."

She kept screaming, regardless of what Stiles was saying to her. He turned his head behind them at Peter and Cora, and tried to give orders through the wailing. "Peter! Get Aiden out of here, and take Cora with you! Ethan's in the Preserve, she knows where to go. Bring both bodies to the Loft and wait for me there."

Peter tried to grab the handle of the knife to pull it out of his leg, but he couldn't touch it.

"What's the matter?" Stiles asked, pulling it out for him and dropping it to the floor. "Get out of here", he ordered.

Lydia stopped screaming the instant Peter left the room with Aiden in tow.

"You're okay", he assured her, adjusting himself so that he was sitting next to her rather than across from her. He put a hand across her shoulder. "I'll take care of the mess, don't worry about that."

She wouldn't stop shaking. "He knows where I live now", she whispered. "He knows where to find me."

Stiles phone rang again, and he reached in his pocket. It was his father again. Stiles declined the call and shut his phone off, slipping it into his pocket. "He's not going to hurt you."

"No, he isn't." He could tell that she was trying to be as steady as possible. "He's not hurting me. He's not attacking me ever again. Not in real life, not in my head. He's not going to hurt me." She took a deep breath. "He's not going to hurt me, he's not going to betray you, he's not going to touch my family. I'm not going to let it happen."

He felt the trembling in her body stop. "I believe you." He leaned over and picking up the knife from the floor and wiped the blood off on his shirt. "You want to explain why Peter wasn't able to pull this out?" He asked quietly

"Powdered wolfsbane. In the metal and in the handle", she answered. "Jackson made it before he left. Nearly poisoned himself doing it."

"You saved yourself today", he told her. "You didn't need any of us."

She nodded. "I know. I'm not going to let him hurt anyone."

"I think you're a banshee", Stiles said, setting the clean knife on the floor. "I think that's why you keep finding the dead bodies."

"I don't want to talk about that right now", she said, clearing her throat. "You want to tell me what happened earlier? You were just supposed to talk to Ethan."

"He said that I was a threat and tried to attack me", he told her. "My reflexes killed him. Broke his neck, he died on impact."

"He couldn't heal?" Lydia asked

"I tried to help him, nothing worked."

He checked the time. It was late at night, and he should probably do something to clean up the room. He should probably get back to the loft and dispose of the bodies. Things just couldn't stay the way that they were.

"Lydia, where are your parents?" He asked quietly.

"Nobody's here", she answered. "They're away on business."

"I need you to go downstairs and sleep there tonight so I can help clean this place up."

"I can do it", she told him. "I can help."

"You can help by going downstairs and staying there."

It took him 5 hours to do, but every single drop of blood was eliminated from Lydia's room. Everything was clean, all of the DNA was purged, but it wasn't good enough for him. Stiles dumped the last bit of blood down the drain, and disposed of the gloves he was cleaning with. He inspected the room. Everything was neat and tidy, just the way that it was when he followed her police escort home that one night after she found the first body. But he knew that it wasn't the same.

Lydia was strong, he had known that about her all along, but this was his fault. Stiles told her to take Aiden here, to bring him into her house. He should have known that something could have gone wrong, that he could have tried to attack her. It was enough that Lydia had a tendency to find dead bodies, Stiles shouldn't have made her bedroom a crime scene. This was her home, her sanctuary, and place away from it all, and he destroyed it.

There was no need for her to witness Peter killing someone, there was no need for Peter to take another life, even if it was to protect somebody. There was no need for anybody else to dispose of the bodies.

Stiles drove to Scott's house and woke up Isaac. Isaac met him downstairs, eyes tired and hair messed up. This was a proper picture in Stiles' mind- someone who was a teenager who happened to also be a werewolf. Innocent and who hadn't just witnessed murder or felt like they needed to stab someone in order to prevent their nightmares from coming true.

"You used to work in a graveyard", Stiles started. "I need the keys to the equipment. I need a mapped out plot of old bodies so that I can replace a couple of them with nobody else knowing about it. And I need you to tell me this without asking me why."

"Are you okay? Do you need me to come with you?"

"No", Stiles answered automatically. "Get some sleep, write your English essay. I remember you telling me once that you weren't much of a writer."

"The essay's done", Isaac told him. "Stiles, you don't look so good."

"I'm fine", he assured him. "Kind of a time sensitive situation, Isaac."

"Yeah." Isaac rubbed his eyes gently. "Okay. Everything is at Derek's loft."

"What? Why?" Stiles asked

"There was something that Derek had us do when he turned us, as a way to let the past be the past. He gave all of us a cardboard box and told us to put whatever we wanted inside of it that we knew we wouldn't need anymore."

Stiles nodded his head. "That was nice of him. Decent thing for him to do."

"I used to carry an emergency kit with me all of the time. And I used to carry everything that I'd need for the graveyard. It's in there."

"Where did you put it?"

"In my old bedroom."

"Thanks, Isaac." He turned and got into his Jeep.

Isaac stepped out of the house, and rested his arms on the opened driver's side window. "Stiles, tell me what's going on. Do you need help?"

"No", Stiles said firmly, putting the keys into the ignition and switching gears. "I can do it."

"Stiles…" Isaac started.

Did Derek have a box of his own? What was in it?

_"It's not right", Derek told him. "It's like an…" he closed his mouth tightly, as if he was afraid of saying the word._

_"Abomination", Stiles finished for him. Derek nodded._

"You're a werewolf", Stiles told him. "Not an abomination. Don't forget that."

"Where are you going?" Isaac asked him "Why are you covered in blood?"

Stiles looked right at him. "I'm going to bury a couple of dead bodies."

It was 6:00 in the morning on a Thursday when Stiles came back into the house, wearing his gym clothes after having burned the ones he was wearing before. He had bleached his sneakers white, and he could still feel the dirt and blood in his fingernails. He hadn't slept, and he barely had enough time for a shower and the drive to school.

There was a fresh pot of coffee on, and the Sheriff was sitting at the kitchen table, still in uniform. "Where have you been?" He asked


	7. I've been let off Scott Free

He hoped that the split second of nervousness that came up didn't come through. He walked in, trying to put extra energy in his step. "Hey, Dad", he greeted, trying to sound cheerful. "Nice morning we're having."

"I called you", his father told him. "A lot."

Stiles looked down at his gym clothes, thankful that he decided to change earlier. After burying bodies. He pointed outside. "I went out running. Ended up lost."

"I had the force looking for you", his father added, getting up from his chair. "They never found you."

"That was unnecessary", Stiles told him. "What's that rule about waiting 24 hours?"

"You're my son", he said, crossing his arms. "And you didn't get lost or just get back from running, you pulled up in your car just now."

"I went on a trail", Stiles tried to explain. "You're worrying about nothing."

"I'm your father. It's my job to worry about you."

"Technically, it's your job to worry about everyone else in town", Stiles corrected. "I'm sorry I got lost and I didn't call. I'm okay."

Stiles dropped his bag and started heading up the stairs. "Stiles", his dad stopped him. "You still didn't tell me where you went."

Stiles took a deep breath, and hated himself for what came out of his mouth next. He didn't want to play this card, but it was the only way to guarantee that his father didn't arrest him on the spot. He turned around. "I spent the night at the cemetery, okay? I fell asleep."

He started heading back up the stairs. "I called Ms. Morrell." Stiles froze in place and turned around. "I asked her about the meeting she had with you."

The Sheriff headed back into the kitchen and Stiles rolled his eyes at the ceiling before reluctantly going back down the couple of steps he managed to climb. "You didn't have to do that", he told his father. "I went, just like I told you that I would. There's no need to doubt my word."

"You're out all hours of the night. You're never here when I get home, and when I do see you, you're always in a hurry to leave." He pulled open a cabinet and took out a coffee mug. "Kind of like the way you are right now", he added, gesturing with the mug.

Stiles crossed his arms defensively. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're running from what's going on in your head instead of facing them." He pulled out a second mug. "I"m assuming you didn't sleep great last night."

"I'm fine", Stiles lied. The truth of the matter was that Stiles was still looking out the window waiting for the cop cars to arrive, for the lights to reflect in the glass and for his father to handcuff him for murder. "The only reason I'm in a hurry to leave right now is because I'm going to be late for school."

"I'll write you a note excusing you from your first class. We need to talk." Dad poured a cup of coffee for himself and one for Stiles, taking his own cup back to the table and sitting down. "Please", he gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit down."

Stiles ran a finger over the handle of the mug left for him, but didn't take it. "No, we don't."

"Sit down, Stiles."

"I'll stand", he said stubbornly.

"Sit", Dad ordered.

Stiles abandoned the cup, wishing just after he sat down that he had taken it, just so that he would have something to fiddle with.

"I understand that it's been hard for you lately, but I'm worried about you."

"You've voiced your concern already", Stiles said through gritted teeth.

"Your guidance counselor told me that you seem to think that Scott didn't die of a suicide."

Stiles let out a laugh. "Is that so?"

"She says you think he was murdered."

"That's because Scott didn't kill himself", Stiles said firmly, tired of the same argument, of telling it to faces that pitied him.

"Son, it's a conspiracy theory. It's natural right now, I get it. It's not the first one you've had recently, you've been trying to find patterns."

"You've been doing the same thing", Stiles pointed out. "You called in the FBI. I noticed that they're not in town yet. Traffic must be slow."

"You have to accept that maybe you're wrong about this one."

Stiles could feel anger building inside every time his father told him that he was wrong. It was getting worse every time. He was becoming more conscious of the blood and dirt caught in between his fingernails, the horrible sound of Ethan's neck snapping.

"I understand that it's one after the other", The Sheriff continued. "And after losing Heather and Scott close together in time would make anyone wonder, but you have to look past it. It's denial. It's not reality."

"You weren't there", Stiles said stiffly.

"I know, son, but"

"-Either time", Stiles interrupted. "You weren't there either time. You didn't believe the last autopsy report, so why should I choose to believe this one?"

He watched his father freezing in place with his coffee mug halfway to his mouth before setting it back down silently.

Stiles wondered if there was steam coming out of his own head right now.

"You were at work", he continued. "You weren't the one who came home from school one day to find Mom lying on the bathroom floor with an empty bottle of Adderall in her hand. You're not the one who took the bottle from her hand and saw your own name on it. I called you frantically at the station, trying to get in touch with you because I was scared, but you didn't answer the phone. I was barely able to keep it together to call for an ambulance, and you still weren't there. You weren't there when they put her in a room and didn't let me in because they were trying to pump her stomach, and they didn't think that a kid should be there for that."

Stiles cleared his throat. "You weren't there, watching in the corner as the doctors gave up on her and pronounced her dead. You weren't there when the nurse found me in the room crying and holding her dead hand, and pulling me away, trying to get me to leave."

"For God's sake, stop it!" His father cried.

"Why?" Stiles demanded. "Don't we need to talk about it? But no, not at the time. At the time, I was just a kid, I didn't understand what was going on, and you shipped me off to a psychiatrist instead of talking about it like a family. And you _let_ them prescribe me more of the same medication that killed her, and you made sure that I kept_ taking_ it?"

Stiles felt his body shaking, and wasn't sure where the drops falling down to where his knuckles rested on the table, turning white. "You wanted me to do that again, so I went. I went to the guidance counselor, and I sat there and we _talked_ about it, just like you wanted."

"I'm trying to keep you safe", Dad tried. "You were happy before it all happened. I'm trying to get you back to that good place."

Stiles let out a bitter laugh. "What good place? The fake place that we pretended to be in, where we don't talk about things? You've just about ruined that place now, haven't you?" He threw up his arms in frustration. "All I _wanted_ from you was that place. I wanted the same thing that happens to us when someone dies- you fill out a report, do a criminal investigation, I butt in because that's what I do, and we don't talk about the people who died."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't bring up Mom, and I respect that, Dad. I really do. But you don't get to turn around and do this." Stiles felt a migraine coming on, probably some sort of physical warning telling him that he was going too far. He bit the inside of his cheeks and continued. "You don't get to pretend that Scott wasn't as much of an important part of our lives as she was, okay? You don't get to decide to not talk about her, but talk about Scott like he never mattered. We were a team, you remember that? You drove both of us to practice, not just me. Scott was the one who played in the games most of the time while I sat on the bench and watched. You cheered for both of us, not just me. I only played _one_ time. You were there with Mrs. McCall at every single game."

"You can't make the argument that something or someone forced him to light himself on fire", The Sheriff said, wincing at the words.

This coming from the man who couldn't train a bunch of adults to tell right away when a murder was taking place, to find the bodies and the murderer who stayed up all night taking care of it. He couldn't tell when a murderer was sitting right in front of him.

"Watch me", Stiles said, getting up from the table.

"You can't justify suicide", The Sheriff told him.

Stiles moved to the cup of coffee that was still sitting there, and poured it down the drain. "You spent years doing it, Dad. I figure I might as well have my try."

"If you're looking for me to get angry with you, you're succeeding. But nobody blames you for any of this."

No, he wasn't. Because if he had, his father would have handcuffed him for murder, and not just for Ethan or Aiden. But for Scott and his own mother too.

The truth of the matter was that he remembered the words, they were most of what he remembered from her other than the day she died. Dad would get down on his level, tousle his hair, and tell him before he left for work that when he was gone, Stiles was the man of the house, and he needed to protect his mother and keep her safe.

There was symmetry in all of this. The doctors told each other that they were twenty minutes late, and that's all it took, really. If Stiles had gotten home twenty minutes sooner, he would have saved his mother, and they would have been able to everything out of her system before it metabolized. If he had left Ethan to die and rushed over to Boyd, he would have had the thirty seconds he needed to get to Scott to save him.

And now he was getting away with everything. Scott free.

Stiles set the empty mug on the counter and hesitated for a split second before leaving the house. "They should."

He decided against going to school today. He went upstairs to get some of Deaton's books and some of his spell material, shoving them in his backpack before driving to Derek's loft.

He pulled book after book open and started going through the pages, looking for anything that would help them stay alive. This was the consequence of reflex killing someone, and a plan gone wrong killing another- any second, Kali was going to walk through the door, out for blood.

Someone was going to notice that they were missing- Stiles wasn't stupid. He knew that he wasn't the only one people were searching for last night, even if he was lucky enough that Deucalion didn't get the authorities involved. Either Deucalion or Danny. Stiles looked down guiltily when he thought of how Danny had lost his new boyfriend.

"It's for the best", he said out loud, stirring a potion furiously. He was trying not to look upstairs.

Isaac told him last night where to find the keys and blueprints for the cemetery. He never told Stiles to stay away from everyone else's possessions, the ones they said they wouldn't need later. He definitely never told him that Erica and Boyd had boxes right next to Isaac's. Nobody told him that Derek had two locked safes in his bedroom, and that it was almost impossible to get into the first one.

Nobody told him why Derek had one, maybe even two, empty safes in his bedroom. Maybe they never knew. And Derek was gone- Stiles couldn't even try and wheedle an explanation out.

Stiles started to use the empty safe as a way to store some of his potions. They were antidotes, mostly. Just in case.

He was about to clean up when the room echoed. "Incoming call from Peter Hale."

He crossed his arms and accepted the call. "It's a good thing I decided to play hooky today", Stiles answered.

"We had a feeling you would. I'm a little concerned with the amount of enthusiasm you had in cleaning up crime scenes and burying bodies", Peter answered.

Stiles let out a scoff. "More like I didn't trust your ability to clean it up without getting caught. You're not supposed to hold a record for having the police find the body within a couple of hours."

"Maybe I wanted to get caught."

"We'll never know, will we?" Stiles asked. "How's the search for Waldo going?"

"It's been a long time since I've seen Derek in color", Peter mused. "And not even a Christmas sweater. I doubt he owns any color in his wardrobe anymore."

_"That's uh, not really his color."_

"He doesn't exactly rock orange and blue", Stiles brought up.

"Did he have a straight face?" Peter asked

"What do you think?" Stiles cleared his throat. "Enough of the pleasantries. What's going on? Why did you call?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "My niece thought it was a good idea to check on you."

"That was nice of her. Is Cora there?" Stiles asked. "Can I see her? Make sure you're not currently digesting her?"

There was a feminine chuckle in the background. "I'm fine, Stiles. Just setting up a wake up call." She appeared on the screen. "We haven't found him, not yet."

"And you think you will."

Peter left the screen and Cora took over. "We're following some sort of trail that Peter knows. He won't explain it, but that's what we're doing."

"And you're sure that it's not just a ruse to get you far away enough from the town so that he can eat you?" Stiles asked

Cora chuckled. "I don't think he's going to hurt me."

"Then get a breakdown as to where the trail came from. If it doesn't make sense, we can't waste time with you guys out there when we're going to get an Alpha showdown back home any day now."

Peter came back into the screen next to Cora. "Is everything alright?" He asked

"They are for now", Stiles told him. "But seriously, if you think that Ethan and Aiden being dead isn't going to make the rest of the Alphas just a little bit curious, you're wrong."

Peter let out a sigh, and shook his head, turning to Cora. "We're close. I can feel it. But if you need one of us to come back, Isaac can come in our place."

Stiles stepped forward and tried to get a close look at Peter's face. He didn't look too great. Drained. "Peter, how are you doing? How's your leg?"

"I'll live."

"You were stabbed with a wolfsbane knife. I haven't found antidotes for it, but I'll look through the books again, maybe there's something."

"It's already healed over", Peter told him. "There's a scar, but it's fine. It's not undeserved."

_"Are you dying?" Stiles asked him._

_"Not yet", Derek answered, taking a shallow breath. "I have a last resort."_

"Nobody needs to cut off your leg, right?" Stiles asked

Peter let out a laugh. "That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard."

"You know what's ridiculous? Following some random trail and not telling anyone about it. This is why people leave itineraries when they go on long trips."

"Still trying to get me to be a team player, Stiles?" Peter asked

Stiles was about to answer when the alarm started to blare.

He turned around towards the door. "That's impossible. There's a ward and a security system. It shouldn't be going off."

He looked back at the screen and then at the door again. "Stiles, what's happening?" Cora asked

"I don't know."

"We're thirty minutes out of town", Cora told Peter. "We'll never get back in time."

There was muffled bickering coming from the entrance. Didn't seem like a bad guy. "You're not going anywhere. Find a corpse if you need to so you don't have to ask yourself if there's something else you could have done."

The door opened and Boyd was holding up Allison off of the ground, carrying her away from him, like he was dangling something disgusting that just needed to go in the trash. Isaac was next to him, tugging Chris Argent along.

"This is completely inappropriate", Chris told them. "Get off of me. Let my daughter go."

Peter let out a laugh. "Maybe we should go back after all."

"You stay away from my family", Chris said menacingly at the screen.

"Or what?" Peter asked. "You'll get out your gun, shoot off twenty rounds, and miss every shot?"

"How'd you set off the alarm?" Stiles asked Isaac.

Isaac looked over at Allison. "She used her own name as vocal verification to try and get in. She was surprised when it triggered the alarm."

"Because Stiles and I are friends", Allison told him. "You can let me go now", she tossed back at Boyd.

"Funny, Erica told you to stop, and you didn't, did you?"

"You weren't added to the security validation because it's still Derek's loft. He wouldn't have wanted an Argent to be able to get inside." Stiles explained.

"No, he wouldn't have", Cora answered from the screen.

"You two", he said, waving his hand in the direction of the screen. "No more commentary. Peter, wipe that smirk off your face, you're enjoying this too much. Quiet or I'm ending the call and not telling you what's going on."

"I thought you wanted us to be team players", Peter remarked.

"I'm team captain and I'm benching you right now", Stiles told him. He pressed a couple of buttons on the computer and listened as multiple locks started activating in the loft. "It's been an efficient day", he said, turning back to Boyd and Isaac. "You can let them go, they're not going to run off anywhere."

"You had werewolves follow us", Chris said in a disgusted tone as Isaac pushed him forward.

"You didn't think I'd let you two run around out of retirement without keeping an eye on you, did you?" Stiles stepped forward and looked past Allison's Dad to Boyd who was crossing his arms stiffly. "We had an agreement that if something went wrong, you wouldn't kill them without looking for an explanation. Is that the point that we're at right now?"

"We caught them talking to Gerard."

At the mention of the name, the couch flew from one side of the room to the other, hitting the door with a loud bang.

"You were _talking_ to him?" Stiles asked Allison. "After what he did to you? You felt like dropping by wherever he was hiding and having a chat?"

"I didn't kill anyone", Allison told him.

Stiles shook his head, exhaling sharply and trying to let go of the anger. "You should have", he told her. "After everything that he did to you and your family, you should want him dead. Are you asking me for permission?"

"We were talking to him, looking for information about the Darach. That's it."

"The bad guys lie!" Stiles exclaimed. "That's what they do, that's who they are. You can't believe that there's a single thing that he's saying that's the truth."

"He says that there's a spell you can cast that will help you recognize the Darach", Allison told him. "If you cast it, we can find it."

"You told him I've been using magic?" Stiles asked. "He's going to come back and use that against us."

"He's sputtering black goo every five seconds and he's in a wheelchair", Chris said. "He's not going anywhere."

"I don't trust you", Stiles told Chris. "Allison, maybe a little, but you I don't trust at all."

"He's my Dad", Allison said. "You can trust him. He knows more about this stuff than I do."

"He's more blind than Deucalion is", Stiles said, not looking Allison's father in the eye. "He should have seen what was going on growing up with Gerard. He should have seen what he was turning Kate into, and he should have stopped Gerard from influencing you right when it was happening instead of when it was too late."

Chris Argent pulled a gun out of nowhere and aimed it at Stiles, who raised a hand and twisted it, dropping the ammo from the gun and into Stiles' hand. He put it in his pocket and raised an eyebrow.

"It's not my fault", Chris said, breathing heavily. "I stopped her before she could kill anyone."

"That doesn't mean anything to me", Stiles said evenly. "You're having friendly chats with Gerard, and he damned your family. Turned you into murderers."

"Like Derek turned innocent children into murderers", Chris told him.

Stiles stepped forward and put a hand on his right shoulder. "You know, that line would almost work if they had actually killed anyone." Stiles let go and walked past them. "If we tally it up and count spilled drops of blood, you know who comes out looking bad? Allison does. It doesn't matter that the people she was targeting ended up healing over."

"Nobody died", Allison argued. "You said it yourself. A little mangling, but nobody died."

He remembered Erica and Boyd being hooked up to the ceiling of the room they were stuck in. They were terrified, and Allison didn't care about that. All she wanted was Derek.

Stiles walked over to Allison. "I'm going to ask you a question", he started softly, putting two fingers on the side of her neck, "And I need you to answer as honestly as possible. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded, holding her neck up stiffly.

"Did you tell Gerard to come after me after the Lacrosse game?" He asked

"Stiles", she started, shaking her head furiously.

"Yes or no, Allison", he said, looking right in her eyes. "You wanted Derek, right? I remember what Gerard said, that Boyd and Erica- their loyalties to Derek were too strong. You needed me, didn't you? A human."

"Yes", she whispered. "Stiles, I'm so sorry."

Her pulse was the same until she said the word sorry.

_"Look at my face, huh? You actually think that this was meant to hurt me?"_

"I was just another pawn in the plan", he realized, taking his fingers off of her neck. "And so were you. The women in your family make the decisions, and you let yourself get manipulated, just like you're letting yourself get manipulated right now."

"No, I'm not", Allison tried. "We're manipulating him just like he did to us. We have it under control. We didn't need to be brought in like this. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing."

"That's the problem", Stiles said, frustrated. "You didn't tell me what was going on. Just the fact that you felt like I didn't need to know about this shows that there's a part of you that knew that what you were doing was wrong, but instead of looking for help or getting more opinions, you kept going with your plan. When were you going to tell me, Allison? After everything exploded again?"

"Nothing was going to go wrong."

"Isaac", he called out. "Did you like being stabbed with knives?" Isaac shook his head. "And Boyd, how about you? You were shot with a dozen arrows. Would you say that was exactly a pleasant moment in your life?"

Boyd shifted, Isaac holding him back from Allison. Stiles didn't say a word, just walked over to Boyd, standing by his side. "This is what you're afraid of? Being a monster? You think that you didn't have a choice in being manipulated, but you did. You chose to be manipulated just like Boyd and Isaac chose to be werewolves. Gerard didn't force you to stab Isaac or shoot arrows at Boyd, you chose to do that by yourself. And you chose to go back to Gerard, even if it's only to get information. You chose not to keep us all involved or informed, and you let it go so far that Isaac and Boyd had to pull you in for answers. They could have killed you both on the spot, you realize that, right?"

"Scott would have trusted me with this."

That didn't make everything better. It wasn't an excuse anymore.

Stiles stepped in front of Isaac and Boyd. "Scott's not here", he answered evenly, his eyes starting to accumulate tears. "He's dead."

"Stiles", Allison started

"I'm going to tell you what's going to happen next", he said. "Gerard is going to die. This system where the bad guys are let go and then cause trouble later ends."

"You going to kill Peter too?" Chris asked

"No, he's got a nice scar on his leg to remind him of what'll happen if he causes trouble later", Stiles answered, glancing at the screen where Peter and Cora were still watching. "We're not waiting around for him to die of natural causes. He's going to die." He turned to Allison. "Either you kill the man who manipulated you and take control of your own life, or I'm going to kill him myself. It's Thursday, you have until Saturday night to decide. If you try to leave town, or take him out of town, I'll kill all three of you."

"You're talking about taking lives flippantly", Chris told him. "You don't know what it takes to claim one."

Stiles walked to him and whispered in his ears. "My mother died because of me when I was eight years old. I buried two bodies last night, and I haven't gotten any sleep. You don't know enough about me to make accusations as to what I'm capable of." He stepped back, walked towards the computer and wiped the tears from his eyes, ignoring the sad look on Peter's face on the screen. He deactivated the locks. "Get out of here. I want a decision on Saturday."

He waved his hand and moved the couch away from the door, and the door opened. Allison and Chris Argent walked out. Stiles walked over to Boyd, who was still in werewolf form. "Boyd", he said, standing in front of him. "It's okay." He put a hand on the man's shoulder and Boyd changed back instantly. "Erica wouldn't want you to be a killer."

"Every time I see Allison, I can hear Erica begging her to stop", Boyd whispered.

Stiles threw his arms over Boyd's shoulder and hoped that hugging him would make it better.

"I miss the train car", he heard Boyd say.

Stiles froze in place for a second before stepping back and forcing a smile on his face. He had buried bodies so that they wouldn't have to, and he was willing to kill Gerard so that nobody else would have to do deal with the fallout if he came back to destroy everything again, and it still wasn't enough.

Nobody on their side had died, but it still wasn't enough. And Stiles couldn't let them down. He couldn't fail them.

There was a pinging noise on his phone and he pulled it out of his pocket, along with the ammunition, setting the ammo on the table and scrolling down to check his email. It was from Peter.

"Details on how we're planning on finding Derek", Stiles read, looking up at the screen.

There was nobody looking back at him. Peter disconnected the call.

Stiles would make a team player out of him yet. He just wasn't sure about the Argents.


	8. Looks like a boy but he's a flame

The bell rang and he packed up his things to leave Economics. He was barely out the door when he found himself being pulled out into the hallway. "Hey! Manhandling!" He yelped.

He was being shoved into an empty classroom across the hall. "I need to talk to you", a voice whispered in his ear. The door was shut behind them.

Allison. Scott used to say that they had a special classroom for meeting up in. What did she want? He turned around to face her, and the confusion in his face was replaced with a smile. "I've heard about what goes on in these classrooms", he commented. "I've got to say though, if you brought me here for a makeout session, I'm flattered, but not interested."

She stared at him blankly. Well, he tried. "Fine. I've got five minutes before my next class. What do you want to talk about?" He asked

She just stared at him for a couple of seconds before saying something. "I can't let my father kill my grandfather."

Stiles walked past her to the front of the room, letting out a breath. That wasn't what he told her to do. He didn't want her to pass the job along to someone else, that wasn't what this was about. She wasn't listening. He leaned against the empty table and crossed his ankles. "Well, that's fine, because I told you to be the one to do it."

He examined her as she took a couple of cautious steps in his direction. "I can't."

Had she tried? Did something stop her? "If you need a weapon or something, I'm sure you have an entire arsenal somewhere that can help you with that."

"I can't do it."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand", he said, sitting on top of the table and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Gerard manipulated you. He turned you into a completely different person. You should hate him."

"I_ do_ hate him", she replied.

"And I thought you wanted to get revenge on the Darach?"

She nodded, her expression turning stiff at the name.

"And you wanted revenge on Derek because you thought he killed your Mom."

"I didn't have all of the facts", she jumped to explain.

It was the same old argument, and Stiles was tired of constantly rehashing this. He held up a hand to stop her. "That doesn't matter." He straightened himself and hopped off of the table. "So let me see if I understand." He held out one finger. "You want the Darach dead for the same reason I do, because it killed Scott. If it somehow didn't and it was really a suicide, there are other sacrifices that it's responsible for, other families it's ruined. Regardless of how we spin it, it's got to be taken down. I understand that."

He ticked off the second finger, walking towards her. "Derek's only offense it that you were told he killed your mother. You literally tried to hunt him down without getting confirmation from anyone but your family, who you knew before like to start wars with innocent werewolves."

"Innocent?" Allison asked.

She still had the same mindset about werewolves as Chris and Gerard did. They didn't kill anyone, but she still didn't see that they were more innocent and good than she was. Boyd never killed anyone, neither did Erica or Isaac.

She still saw them as the bad guys. If that was the case, why should they work with her?

"What did they do to you?" Stiles asked, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. "Did they personally track you down and try to kill you?"

"When we were locked in that school, yes."

That was ancient history at this point.

"Anything else? Did anyone personally try to kill you without you trying to get yourself involved in it first?"

She was silent.

"I didn't think so. So you're out to kill the Darach, and you were out to kill Derek, but you're not out to kill the person who twisted you into a hunter who doesn't think for themselves."

"I can think for myself", she interrupted.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes closing for a split second as he felt sinking in his stomach. He wanted Allison to change. He wanted her to tell him that she knew that her actions were wrong, how she approached the situation was wrong, and that it was inhumane to go after people the way that she did.

He wanted to hear her say that she was terrified that there was a part of her that was capable of doing that to other human beings, because it was all Stiles was able to think of since he came back from cutting up bodies and burning the pieces before burying the ashes and wiping away the evidence of being there.

Stiles wanted to stop sending Isaac and Boyd to make sure that she wasn't doing anything wrong- he wanted to trust her implicitly so that everyone could work together as a team. He wanted to stop worrying about everything himself, and he was hoping that just maybe Allison could help him with the weight a little bit. It was what Scott would have wanted, the two of them working together, but Stiles couldn't do that with this hanging over his head. He couldn't afford to blind himself and magically forget that Gerard was still alive and out there. Stiles needed to minimize all of this as much as possible, and Allison didn't seem to want to help, or accept that there was something wrong with the way she was thinking.

"I was really hoping that you weren't going to say that", he told her. "I hoped that you didn't have a clue as to what you were doing, because that would mean that Gerard took control from you and you could get it back from him. Did you want Gerard to threaten your life to get what he wanted? Was that part of the plan?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. This is all in the past", she tried to reason. "How am I supposed to move forward or be trusted if you guys just won't let this go?"

"Because it's coming back and it's part of the present now", he told her.

"You don't know that", she said sternly. "He's still my family. I've lost too much of my family already. I don't want to lose anyone else. You said that Peter's changing, maybe Gerard can change too."

He looked at her sadly. "Allison, he's already dead. The clock's ticking, you know? You have control over how much suffering he goes through."

"He can change."

Stiles shook his head. "He can't change. But you can."

"I _have_ changed."

***Flash***

_"I don't understand", Scott said, pacing back and forth while Stiles sat in his chair. "I was mad at her because she tried to get her family to help with Jackson, but I thought she understood why I was mad about that."_

_"I don't know dude", Stiles answered. "Maybe her family caught on. I told you guys to get separate pre-paid cells."_

_"If that was what happened, she would have found a way to tell me. You didn't see the look in her eyes, Stiles. It was...cold. Dead. Like she had seen something horrible, but she won't talk about it."_

_"And you tried to ask what happened?"_

_"She told me to get out of her way", Scott told him. "She said that I couldn't be around her right now", he said, sitting on Stiles' bed and lying down. "And I wish I knew why."_

***End Flash***

"Have you?" Stiles asked quietly. "Because it all looks like it's the same to me."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded.

If this was her final decision, if she wanted Stiles to kill Gerard instead, was she going to start hunting him down?

"It means that when you mourn you go from crying to wanting blood. And I don't want to be a jerk about this, and I don't know for sure because I wasn't there the first time, but Isaac told me that you ripped him apart like he wasn't even a human being. You treated him like a zombie in a videogame. Except this time, it's not cool because he's not a member of the undead. They feel pain, Allison. All of them do."

"I've made mistakes. I'm not going to deny that."

"Scott was the thing that prevented you from actually killing anyone", Stiles told her. "He would tell you to stop and you would hesitate. But he's not around." He took a breath. "To do many things", he added. "But he's not here to stop you, and I can't risk you doing any more damage. I need everyone to work together, but I can't do that with Isaac and boyd checking on you."

"Then stop having them babysit me!" She exclaimed. "I can be a part of this."

He was silent for a moment before answering. "I told you that you could give me an answer tomorrow night. Are you giving me your decision right now? Are you sure about this?"

She nodded.

"He's still going to die, Allison. And you're not going to have any control over how gentle it'll be."

She shook her head, looking down. "I can't be the one to do it. I can't."

"And you'd rather me be the one to do it?"

Stiles watched as the guilt in her eyes instantly turned to relief as she nodded. He suddenly felt like he was about to vomit. She couldn't bear even the idea of being the one to take a life, but she had no problem with letting him be the one to do it for her. As long as her soul and heart weren't damaged or blackened, she considered herself in good standing.

It didn't matter to Allison what condition Stiles was in.

"Get out of here." The words came out more viciously than he intended, and she left the room quickly.

He backed away from where the entrance until he felt his body make contact with the wall. He slid down the wall and closed his eyes for a second. Allison couldn't be involved with this anymore. She needed to be monitored now more than ever. She couldn't be trusted, and there was no longer a need for a warning in case she went off the rails again.

And Stiles needed to kill Gerard Argent. He needed to take another life, and it wouldn't be done simply or by instinct. It wouldn't be an accident, it would be purposeful. He stood up straight and picked up his backpack from the floor. He hadn't even noticed that it had fallen from his shoulder.

Lydia was the first person he saw when he left the classroom. He tapped her shoulder. "I don't want you telling me that Allison is innocent or that she can be trusted ever again."

Her eyes were wide and she looked around. "Stiles, what's going on? You're shaking."

He hadn't noticed. He took a trembling breath. "Gerard's back", he told her. "And I'm going to kill him."

"What did Allison say?" She asked

"I gave her a choice- kill the guy who destroyed her and be 100% a part of what we're doing or no. She wants me to do it instead."

She nodded. "You're going to do it?"

Stiles thought about Jackson, about how he had been used by Gerard and Matt as a puppet to kill innocent people. That won't continue. "I have to. You know what he's done."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. Is there something I can do?"

He remembered what her bedroom looked like, how his stupid plan had made a mess out of everything. "Go to Mrs. McCall's house tonight. Make sure that Isaac and Boyd are safe."

"Boyd's living with his family", Lydia told him. "He's not living with the McCalls."

"Then get him there", Stiles instructed. "I want you all in one place, and I want you all safe."

"What about Allison?" She asked

He looked around at the rest of the students rushing to class like nothing else was going wrong in their little worlds. "Stay away from Allison. It's not safe if she goes off the rails again."

"I'm not going to abandon her", Lydia said.

"We have to", Stiles told her. "She's just abandoned us."

It was storming out that night, and he was sitting in Derek's loft, painting symbols on his body, staring at the rain as it started spidering down the windows. He didn't want to do this, but it needed to happen. Gerard wasn't going to die easily. He glanced at his phone and pulled up the address of where he was. A cheap motel a little bit out of town.

There was a page in the book he had been reading that would soundproof walls. It was necessary at this point. Stiles dropped the thin paintbrush in the container of water in front of him and got up, pulling his shirt back on as his skin absorbed the last drop of red paint. He flexed his fingers and grabbed his backpack, leaving the loft and driving to the motel.

"Mr. Stilinski", Gerard greeted. "Can't say I expected to see you around here."

Stiles closed the door gently and pulled a small pouch out of the pocket of his hoodie, silently spreading it around the border of the room.

"You used to be so _chatty_", Gerard continued. "Has age finally silenced you?"

He dropped the pouch on the floor, and waved his hand, watching as the border of mountain ash glowed white for a split second before disappearing. "Nobody is going to be able to hear you scream", Stiles said quietly. "I think we'd both prefer that, don't you? You're a proud man, I'm just a child."

He dropped his backpack on one of the beds and unzipped it. "You said once that I could paint an imaginative picture. We're going to find out just how colorful I can get."

"You're right", Gerard answered. "You're just a child. At least you are if you think you'll be able to make me scream."

Stiles walked over to his wheelchair. "We'll see about that." He drove a knife in Gerard's leg, and heard the man hitch his breath for a split second gripping the handles of his wheelchair, before Stiles pulled it out, ignoring the blood dripping from the blade onto the hardwood floor.

He walked over to the other side. "The way I see it, it all starts with you. The fire, the hunters, the Kanima. You had a hand in all of it. And now it's time to stop it."

Gerard let out a chuckle. "You're even the smallest bit curious, Stiles? You don't want to know the information I've been giving to my family?"

"I'm not interested in the lies", Stiles answered, pulling a gun out his backpack and kneeling down, watching as Gerard dabbed his nose with a handkerchief. "You want to know's in here?" He asked. "It's a wolfsbane bullet. Your family has enjoyed shooting werewolves with it for years." Stiles put it to Gerard's head. "I could shoot you with it here and and this all right now, but I'm not going to do that." He got up and shot Gerard in the shoulder.

That was when the screaming started.

They say in science classes that when someone conducts an experiment, sometimes it goes exactly as expected, and other times it can go wrong. It can have unexpected results, like when penicillin was discovered. That was a good discovery.

A bad discovery is when someone casts a spell on a room so that people passing by won't hear an old man screaming for his life, and it ends up echoing the yells in the mind of whoever is left in the room. Stiles heard the sounds amplified and echoing and trapped in his mind, and for a split second, he thought that he was going to vomit on the spot.

_"We don't go out in the middle of the night murdering people, do we?" Scott asked_

Stiles dropped the gun on the bed and kneeled over to Gerard. "You know, the last time I saw one of those bullets, it was trapped inside of someone and they almost lost their arm that night. I bet you like your arms", he put two fingers on the crook of Gerard's left elbow. "I heard Allison's been telling you about the things I've been learning to do."

"It'd make you a great hunter, Mr. Stilinski", Gerard replied with a small smile, gritting his teeth. "You're on the wrong side. There's a book in my old home that will help you find the creature you're looking for."

Stiles ignored him. He lifted both of Gerard's arms and waved them around. "Do you like being someone's puppet?" He asked, before letting them drop. "Do you like knowing that you're going to die tonight? That there's nothing that anybody can do to stop it?"

He held his palm up and Gerard was lifted from his wheelchair, hovering for a couple of seconds before Stiles threw him against the wall.

_"Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?" Scott asked_

"Do you want to know something?" Stiles asked, using magic to lift Gerard from the floor and push him against the wall. "I gave your family a chance to let you die easily and mercifully. They chose this option for you. And they were too weak to do it themselves."

_Stiles knocked on the door and held out a cup of coffee. "Sorry my friend used your body like it was tool and didn't ask for your consent before you gave the bite to a crazy hunting murderer", he said quickly. "I know coffee's not enough."_

_Derek look at him, confused before taking the cup. "You shouldn't be in the woods alone."_

He held out his palm and watched as a flame started growing from it. He couldn't feel the heat of it, but he knew that Gerard could. "You see this?" He asked. "Imagine this times a thousand." He pressed the hand on Gerard's neck, and winced as the screaming echoed in his mind. "Imagine this killing all of your loved ones, nephews, nieces, children. Imagine fighting to try and get them free, watching them die in front of you."

Stiles watched as Gerard's skin started blistering, but he didn't pull back for a little while. When he did, it was only to grab a crossbow from his bag, and loading it.

"You think this will bring them back?" Gerard managed to say

Stiles shook his head. "No, but you know something funny? The fire was ruled as an accident."

"My daughter", Gerard croaked, sobbing, "Is dead."

"Your daughter isn't the guilty one here." Stiles lifted him up by the collar and punched him down, before he started kicking where the burns were.

He remembered being punched like this in the basement of the Argent house, Erica and Boyd being strapped to electrical wires on the ceiling and looking away.

_"We'll be Batman and Robin", Scott said excitedly. "We'll save people, and we'll do it without killing anyone."_

_"Dad says that jail fixes all of the criminals", Stiles agreed, lighting the candle. "We'll let the system fix them, but we'll catch them so they can't hurt anyone!"_

Stiles stopped punching for a second, and looked around.

_"Killing them isn't the right thing to do."_

Scott?

"What's the matter?" Gerard asked. "Grow a conscience? Getting soft?"

"Shut up", Stiles snapped. There was something that had stopped him, something different, and now it was gone.

He looked at his own arm, and saw the scar still there, of the burn that he got when he pulled Scott out of that fire.

He grabbed the crossbow, and held his finger on the trigger, wondering if something would happen to stop him again.

All he could smell was Gerard's burning flesh. And all he could see was his blood and black goo combining on the wood floor.

He pulled the trigger, and heard the sound of them as children, reciting the words. We two will fight together against crime and corruption, and never to swerve from the path of righteousness!

_"You weren't just the MVP of the game. You were a hero."_

_He looked at his father sadly, shaking his head. "No, I'm not a hero, Dad."_

The arrow flew to the other side of the room, but didn't touch Gerard. "Poor aim?" He asked

_"Let me paint one of my own. Scott McCall finds his best friend bloodied and beaten to a pulp. How does that sound?"_

It wasn't supposed to end up this way. Scott was always supposed to be the one who lived, and Stiles was supposed to be the one who died first.

_He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His namesake._

Scott wasn't supposed to be the one who died first, and Stiles wasn't supposed to be a murderer, but that was where they were now.

Stiles held out both hands and watched as flames shot out of them, shooting Gerard and burning him alive, the screaming piercing.

_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me._

For a split second, the body burning in front of him was Scott, and Stiles fell to his knees, tears in his eyes, until he realized that it was Gerard. He didn't stop until the old man was a cooked pile of flesh surrounded by bones. The smell of burning and smoke was invading his nasal passages, and it didn't go away when he opened a window.

The smell of it made Stiles sick, and he vomited out the window for a couple of minutes. He asked himself how easy it would be if he let the rest of his body fall out of it and drop for a couple of stories. he let himself back up once the vomiting subsided. There was another body to take care of, more evidence to get rid of.

When Stiles finally got home, he was so tired and drained that he fell asleep right away. He woke up an hour later, screaming.


	9. The night my hope died

"You look exhausted", Lydia commented in the parking lot.

Stiles shrugged, pulling open the passenger's side door and dropping his backpack in the seat.

"When was the last time you got any sleep?" She asked

"I've had a rough couple of nights", he told her, and left it at that.

She shot him a look that told him that she knew what he was saying was bullshit, but she didn't push it. He ignored it.

The truth was that as time passed, the more he became consciously aware of it. It had been five months since Scott's funeral, and the picture of him lighting himself on fire hadn't faded in his mind. The sadness and weight of it all hadn't gone away. It was like an extra backpack of weight that he always carried- all that was left to do was keep walking along and hope for stronger shoulders. The muscles for all of this had to kick in eventually.

It had been a month since he had killed Gerard. A month since he was able to sleep the night without hearing the screams of a dying old man.

"If you need anything, let me know", she offered.

"I think I'm just going to go home and rest my eyes", he said, walking to the other side of his car and getting in the driver's side. He turned the Jeep on and pulled out before she could say anything else to him.

"Stiles", he heard his name muffled from where she was standing outside, leaning against her car.

He rolled down the window a crack. "I'll see you tomorrow." He said the words quickly before looking behind him and focusing on driving. He heard Lydia sighing to herself on the way out. He was lying to her. He wasn't going home to take a nap, because he wasn't going home. He had potions ready and mountain ash in his backpack. He was headed straight to the station to protect it.

Kali had been following him through the school all day. Stiles needed to make sure that his father's place of business was protected. It was all that mattered right now. And even when he got home, there was too much to read, too much homework to catch up on and too many spells to learn. He forced people to walk with him from class to class without a good enough explanation as to why.

He wasn't scared of Kali. He was scared of adding to the noise pollution in his head.

He dropped by a Checkers drive-through on the way there and bought some unhealthy food. It wasn't the first time this month that he dropped by the station this month with it. He dropped by every evening at the beginning of his father's night shift, saying that they should spend some quality time together, a big smile on his face. Dad liked that, he welcomed it.

Dad stopped asking questions about Stiles' day once he started dropping by regularly. Stiles had a smile plastered on his face, a laugh that escaped from his mouth every couple of minutes, and some banter that his heart wasn't fully into. Today was no different from any other night that he visited. Usually, he would fiddle with anything he could get his hands on, ignore the now familiar sensation of sweating yet constantly feeling cold, and waiting for something simple to happen so that his father would have to leave the station.

Anything to get Stiles' mind off of the fact that tonight was his thirty-first try in turning himself in for murder. He stood outside of the door for a couple of minutes, telling himself that this was it. His backpack was slung over one shoulder and he held the food in a paper bag in his hands with the other hand carrying some soda.

He was taking a couple of deep breaths, telling himself that he needed to protect the station from supernatural beings before turning himself in, so he would have to figure out a way to do that first. Suddenly the door opened and his father stepped outside, looking around for his car.

"Dad, what's going on? What happened?"

This was it. Any second, his father was going to tell him that there had been a couple of people missing- Ethan and Aiden. That Deucalion or Kali finally called it in to the police and they were looking for a murderer or the bodies.

Stiles didn't even know their last names.

His father looked confused for a moment, looking at him. "Stiles." The Sheriff ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "We were going to have dinner together tonight. Sorry, kid. There's a house down on Peach Street that was just broken into. Pretty run of the mill stuff, but I've got to go."

Stiles wanted to tell him that there was more important stuff right here in front of him, that there was a bigger case, and that the criminal was right here, but he couldn't get the words out.

"If there's a burger in there by any chance, I'll take it to go?"

"Yeah", Stiles sputtered, holding out a soda, which his father took. "Yeah, take it to go." He dug in the bag and held out one of the burgers. "Be safe."

The Sheriff put the burger to his nose and breathed deeply. "That's the good stuff. You're spoiling me." He wrapped an arm around Stiles and kissed his head. "I love you."

His father let go and walked past him quickly, calling out orders into the radio, and getting into the car.

"I love you too."

The Beacon Hills County Sheriff was gone in a moment, and Stiles looked around, helplessly, wondering what he should do now. He wasn't going to confess to murder at home, after his father finished with a long night shift. He let out a sigh. All there was left to do was protect the station and go home. He would have to try again tomorrow, and believe that maybe tonight would be different.

He found himself running in a winding road as fast as he could, trying to block the voice that was speaking to him in the background of the screaming._ "You can't save them."_

He stopped in the middle of a fork to see Lydia screaming her head off. He got down to where she was sitting there on her knees. "Lydia? We have to get you out of here."

She wasn't listening, just kept on screaming before she started gurgling blood and spitting it up. "Lydia!" She fell to the ground. There was no time, he had to keep moving.

_"All you can do is sit there and watch as they all die."_

He saw two dead bodies on the ground in front of him. He ran over to them and turned them over so he could see who they were. They were clawed beyond recognition, but Stiles could tell enough from the structure of their bodies and the curly head of hair. Isaac and Boyd were dead.

Stiles backed away from the bodies and ran in another direction. "Cora! Peter! Where are you?" He screamed

They didn't answer, but Gerard's screaming in his head got louder. Stiles squinted his eyes a little bit, trying to see clearer and trying to ignore the noise. "Peter! Cora!"

_"All you will do is fail them."_

He found Peter and Allison dead next to each other. Peter was covered in bullets and arrows, while Allison's throat was slashed.

"No", Stiles backed away. "Cora! Come on!" He shouted. "Cora, where are you?!"

"You can't save them, Stiles", the voice said. He turned around. Deucalion. "You've damned them. Let them live without pledging their allegiance to an Alpha. They're already dead."

"Help me", Cora begged, restrained to a tree. "Stiles. Please."

He tried to get to her, but it was too late. The tree caught on fire, and Deucalion turned his back on the scene, laughing. "Finish him off."

Kali grabbed him and pushed him to a tree with her foot, the claws digging in his chest. All he could see were red eyes smiling at him with huge teeth before he woke up.

His bed was levitating off of the ground, as well as everything else in the room. His ceiling light was flickering, and there were open books surrounding his bed, pages flipping madly.

What the hell was going on?

He sat upright and everything dropped down abruptly with clattering noises. He checked the time. It was three in the morning.

Stiles wasn't entirely sure what compelled him to change to real clothes, splash cold water in his face, and get in his Jeep to drive. He didn't know how this seemed like a logical idea until he was already there, in the darkness of the room, a small window between him and a complete stranger.

He wasn't quite sure how to start, so he took a deep breath, felt the redness in his ears and his cheeks as the words came out. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

He looked around the small room, feeling a little bit claustrophobic, not sure how to proceed. They stopped going to church as a family on principle. Dad said that there was no need, since God didn't answer the one prayer he had. "I don't really know how to do this."

"It's okay, child. How long has it been since your last confession?"

"I don't know", Stiles admitted. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here. No offense, but religion isn't exactly my first instinct."

"What are you confessing to?"

"Is this confidential?" He asked.

"God is always watching", The man answered. "But in legal terms, yes, I suppose it is confidential."

His vision started to blur, his breathing shaky.

"Take your time."

"I killed a man", Stiles said quickly. "And I'm responsible for other deaths. One of the others, it was an accident."

He let out a shuddering breath. The worst was over. He was waiting for lightning to strike him down, for a powerful voice to make a hole where he was sitting and drag him down somewhere. Curses and to be thrown out of a church. But that wasn't what came back.

"Oh?"

"It was the right thing to do", he answered, a tear falling freely. "They were all killers."

"Who lives or dies is not your decision to make", the priest answered.

"There are innocent people who need my protection", Stiles told him. "I needed to do it."

"The people who were killed. They were innocent people who needed your protection."

"You don't understand", Stiles insisted, resting the back of his head on the wall. "They were going to kill again."

"Ending a string of murders with more murders is not just. It is not right."

"My best friend was murdered. What's right about that?" Stiles demanded. "What's right about letting his killer go free?"

"Every human life is sacred."

"What is sacred about my high school being swarmed by murderers who could strike at any moment? What is sacred about waiting around to be killed? My best friend had a strict no killing policy, but the bad guys had no problem with striking him down. What's sacred about that? And then there are Isaac and Boyd. They're kids who are attacked and seen as killers even though they've never committed a crime in their lives. You know, a year ago, we could have been friends?" Stiles sniffled and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie. "But now the best I can do is keep their hands clean of me, of everything bad that's out there. They only thing I can do is keep them safe and hope that I don't wake up one day with them afraid of me. And the only way to keep them safe is to kill the people who would rather see them die."

"And why did you decide to take it upon yourself to kill them?" The priest asked

"Because it's the only way to keep them pure", he answered immediately.

There was silence for a moment, before the priest answered. "Purity of the soul is the only thing that matters. You understand that, since you are so desperate to preserve the purity of others. It does not count in saving your own soul. It does not clean it."

It didn't stop what he was capable of. He lied to his father easily without even thinking about it at first when Scott was bitten. And now he was lying to him about murder. If every human life was sacred, then that should apply to every werewolf as well. But Allison and her family didn't see it that way.

Whoever killed Scott didn't see his life as sacred. Stiles' mother didn't view her own life as sacred if she took it so easily. Lives came and went around here, and Stiles was just here, fighting as hard as he could to stop that, to stop the lives that were meant something from disappearing. Wasn't that the right thing?

Maybe the priest was afraid of the example he would be setting if he forgave Stiles. Maybe that was all there was to this.

"Are you afraid of forgiving me?" Stiles asked, looking down at his hands. "Will it give you a bad reputation? Are you afraid that I'm going to start killing for no good reason? I promise you, I'm not going to rat you out. I won't tell anyone."

"Ten Hail Marys isn't going to fix anything."

"It might help me sleep", Stiles tossed back.

"It's not going to help you."

"Then what do I do?" He begged. "You or God or anybody. What do you want from me? What can I do to be forgiven and make it better? How can I fix this?"

"You need to turn yourself in."

Stiles shook his head feverishly. "My father is the County Sheriff. I've been trying to turn myself in for a month. It'll break him, and he's been hurt by me enough. Hurting my father is not going to fix anything. He's not going to forgive me if I tell him the truth, and going to jail isn't going to make it right. If I go to jail, all of those people will be left unprotected. They will die, do you understand me? I did the right thing. There has to be a better way."

"There is only one way to achieve absolution. That is it."

"Please." There was a croaking noise in his voice. "There has to be something else. I can't do this to my father. I can't be responsible for any more deaths. I can't live with myself this way."

"You need to take responsibility for what you've done. Turning yourself in is the only way to do that."

"Haven't I taken responsibility for confessing? Isn't that and the guilt that comes with this enough payment for my sins?"

"No", the priest answered. "It's not enough."

Stiles nodded numbly before leaving the church.

He looked at his cell phone and scrolled through his emails before he found the right one. Derek and Laura left Beacon Hills after the fire, Peter said. They sent him back postcards during their travels, Peter said. His nurse collected them for him, Peter said. Stiles drove to San Francisco and knocked on the hotel room door loudly.

"Two brooding Mcbroody-pantses", Stiles said when the door opened. "I knew this was the room. There's a hotel bar that was totally okay with my fake ID", he said enthusiastically, holding onto the wall tightly.

"It's six in the morning", Peter deadpanned.

"Happy Saturday", Stiles greeted. "I have a question for you. Where's Cora?"

"She's in an adjoining room. I can wake her up if you'd like."

"No. No no no, it's fine." Stiles insisted. "I have a question for you", he said, waving his index finger around Peter's general direction.

"You're drunk", Peter said, amused.

"I might have a couple of shots of tequila", Stiles informed him, counting on his fingers. "This many", he said, holding up seven fingers. "And I have a question for you."

"I heard", Peter said, closing the door behind him. "You might as well spit it out."

"You said that you heard Laura screaming in your head." He watched as Peter's laughing expression fell and he froze. "I want to know when the screaming goes away."

Peter was silent for a moment. "I don't know", he answered, putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "I'll let you know when I do."

The adjoining door opened. "Is that Stiles?"

"Cora!" Stiles stumbled over to her. "He didn't eat you. I knew he wouldn't." He threw his arms around her.

"He's not okay, is he?" she asked Peter.

_"You're the one who usually comes up with a plan, aren't you?" Cora asked. "You can handle this."_

"I'm totally fine", Stiles said, breaking the hug. "Little pain, little mangling. It's fine. Nothing I can't handle."

"One of us needs to get him back to Beacon Hills before his father figures out he's gone", Peter said. "I'll do it."

"You", Stiles said, poking Peter. "You are not the boss of me. We're not related. You're not my father."

"Give me your keys", Peter ordered.

"My keys", Stiles echoed, before the words clicked in. "Right. Silvery things. Jingling around." He pulled them out of his pocket. "Silver. Wait, this isn't going to hurt you, is it?"

Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing the keys. "I'll take you home. I'll call Isaac, get him up here to help Cora."

"Tell him no killing", Stiles said loudly in Cora's direction. "He's not allowed. Nobody's allowed to do any killing."

"I'll call Isaac", she told them. "Get Stiles back home safe."

"I don't need anybody to protect me, okay?" Stiles said irritably, pushing Peter away from him.. "I can handle it. I can do it myself."

He fell down and passed out on the hotel room floor.


	10. A long time ago we used to be friends

Boyd was sitting there silently when Stiles woke up, holding out a bottle of aspirin. There was a glass of water sitting on his nightstand.

"Thanks", Stiles managed, the growing headache preventing him from being more verbal.

"What happened?" Boyd asked, as Stiles opened the bottle and shook out some tablets, swallowing them dry.

"I don't remember much", he lied. "I think there was a cheeseburger. I know there was tequila."

"Cora called me, said that you showed up drunk at their hotel."

"Ah, so there was definitely tequila", Stiles confirmed, getting out of the bed. "Good to know."

"What happened to start it?"

"Not sure."

"Isaac left for practice about twenty minutes ago. He made some coffee before he went."

"Oh good", Stiles answered, heading into the kitchen. "Did anyone see you two?"

"Your Dad must have fallen asleep at the station", Boyd told him. "We haven't seen him."

Stiles nodded. He made a mental note to check on his father before grabbing a mug from the cabinet and pouring coffee into it. "You want some?"

"No, I'm okay. You still didn't say what happened last night."

"That's probably because I don't remember much." Stiles grabbed a teaspoon and unscrewed the sugar container, putting a couple of spoonfuls in his mug.

"There's something that Derek told us- me and Erica- before we left. I must have spent months thinking about it, wishing that we had made a different call, asking myself if he would come looking for us."

Stiles took a sip from his mug, trying not to think of the priest, wondering if he was going to be reported for the things he said. It was stupid, the whole thing was stupid. They weren't religious enough as a family to take his words seriously, there was no reason to start now.

He had been too grateful in thinking that room was a safe place, he had taken it too far. He had been too comfortable- it was a mistake he wouldn't make again.

"He told us that we were running. That once you start running, you don't stop, and that we would always be running", Boyd told him. "I promised myself that if by some miracle, Derek pulled us out of there, I would stick around for good."

"You're doing okay, Boyd", Stiles answered. "You're safe, you're alive. That's what matters."

"I'm worried about you", he told Stiles. "You were mumbling in your sleep. We couldn't understand most of it because it was in Latin. You scared the hell out of Isaac, by the way. He thought you were spellcasting- things in your room started floating around, I'm not sure if you realize that it happens."

He didn't want anyone to have seen that. "I'm aware."

"There was one part that we could understand you say. You said 'I can't fail them.'"

Stiles got up from his chair, heading over to the fridge and opening it, looking around. There wasn't much in there, he needed to do grocery shopping. He rested his forehead on the front of the inside, feeling the coolness instantly. He didn't want people watching him while he slept. He didn't want Isaac and Boyd hearing things he said.

It was a sign of weakness, something that leaders weren't supposed to show. Leaders were supposed to be fearless, unstoppable. If they had consciences, they weren't supposed to be shown. Emotions were meant to be filtered out and dealt with later- that was what Stiles had been trying to do. But he dropped the ball in that church, and he was dropping it now.

He grabbed some milk and shut the fridge door. "Thanks for letting me know", he informed Boyd. "I'm probably going to finish this", he said, pointing to the cup of coffee. "And then have a shower, maybe do some homework. I'm okay, you don't have to worry about me. You can go."

Boyd nodded, and was silent for a second. Why was he still there? Stiles poured some milk into the mug and put it back in the fridge, stirring, and putting the spoon in the sink.

"You're running", Boyd said suddenly.

Stiles let out a chuckle. "I haven't gone anywhere", he answered, bringing the mug to his lips.

"Maybe not physically, but emotionally. You're upset about what we saw."

"It's a little creepy, but I'm fine."

"You're sweating", Boyd pointed out. "Your pulse is higher than normal."

"I'm hungover", Stiles told him, even though the medication was starting to kick in.

"Which is strange, since you're rarely drunk to begin with."

_"Can you at least tell me what we're doing out here?" Scott asked behind him in a frustrated tone._

_"Yes", Stiles answered. "When your best friend gets dumped"_

_"-I didn't get dumped", Scott interrupted. "We're taking a break."_

_"Alright, well when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break?" Stiles held up the bottle. "You get your best friend drunk."_

"I get drunk sometimes", Stiles answered stiffly.

Boyd studied him as he sipped on his coffee silently. "You know, sometimes if people ask me if I'm okay, I still get confused as to why they're asking? Because I was invisible for so long."

And then Stiles started feeling guilty, because even though he liked to think that he was nice to everyone at school, he had never gone out of his way to be friends with everyone. Scott had been his friend forever- Stiles was okay if it was just the two of them, that one best friend was all he truly needed. Maybe if he hadn't done that, Scott's death wouldn't still be a surprise when he woke up every morning. "I'm sorry."

"It's not about me, Stiles. It's about you. You have people who care about you who want to help and be involved, but you won't let us."

_"Purity of the soul is the only thing that matters."_

"Trust me", Stiles said quietly. "You don't want to be this involved."

He was sitting at a table in the library catching up on some homework a week later. Stiles figured that since he used the place as an excuse so often, he might as well actually be here from time to time to keep his face familiar to the librarians in case someone started asking questions. He was typing away on his laptop when he received a text message from Peter, telling him to go home.

Stiles asked if something had gone wrong, if anyone was in trouble. Peter replied, saying that if there was trouble, he wouldn't waste his time sending text messages. Stiles let out a sigh and packed up his things, getting in his Jeep and drove back to his house.

He went up the stairs and got to his bedroom when he saw them standing there.

_"This is private property."_

Peter looked incredibly smug, Stiles couldn't remember actually seeing Cora smiling widely. They both looked exhausted to him, but happy. Derek was standing in between them, his expression blank instead of grouchy.

_"I just...I couldn't stop him", Scott said flustered. "He just went into that boiler room so fast, and I kept thinking that I should go in there with him, but I kept thinking about my Mom and how I couldn't leave her all alone, and I couldn't hear Derek screaming or growling or doing anything at all. They must have been slashing at him for hours, and all I could see when the sun came up was that he was exhausted."_

Derek wasn't bruised, he wasn't cut up or injured in any way. He was wearing a beige shirt underneath his unzipped leather jacket, and it didn't look like there were any blood stains.

Derek was dead. Derek was dead. Scott told him that Derek was dead, he couldn't heal because Derek was dead. Isaac and Boyd were mourning the loss of their Alpha, and Derek was dead. If the police report was right and Scott's death was a suicide, Derek being dead was a factor of what pushed him. Stiles could feel his hands begin to shake. He needed to do something to keep them busy. He walked right past them to set his backpack down on his bed, pulling out his laptop and setting it on his desk, his back turned to the three of them.

He gripped the edge of his desk and took a deep breath before turning back to his bed and looking for the charger.

"Well, he's gotten rude since the last time we saw him", Peter said, crossing his arms.

"No kidding", Cora remarked. "He hugged me last time."

"I was grateful to see that you hadn't been eaten", Stiles pointed out, plugging the charger into the wall outlet and connecting it to the laptop. "But if you're hug-deprived, Cora, all you have to do is ask."

"No, I'm good", she told him.

"We had a policy on letting other people use the amulets to get in places", he told Peter. "I thought I made that clear."

"Stiles", Derek started, but Stiles ignored him.

"Seeing the house reject him was only funny the first time", Peter informed him.

Stiles let out a laugh. "You actually let it reject him the first time?"

"We've been away", Peter said. "I may have forgotten a few things."

"Getting forgetful in your old age, Peter?"

Derek had been looking at him and then Peter, and then back to Stiles again, his face a mixture of confusion and horror.

"So Stiles is still chatty", Stiles heard Derek say to Cora.

Cora let out a laugh. "Yeah, Stiles is still chatty."

"Don't do it again", Stiles told Peter.

"I figured you'd want evidence that he's alive. No better evidence than this."

"I appreciate that", Stiles said, ignoring Derek. "But it's a rule. We can't go around breaking them for everyone."

"He's the pack's Alpha", Peter told him.

Stiles wondered if that meant that Peter was going to take a step back in everything, if he was going to stand on the sidelines now that Derek was back, but that wasn't what Stiles wanted. He was only convinced that Peter was trustworthy recently- it would be wrong to go back a couple of steps.

"You're not going anywhere", he told Peter steadily. "That's not an excuse for you."

"Oh please", Peter scoffed. "I'm practically second in command around here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry, what?" Derek sounded like he was having trouble processing the information.

It wasn't Stiles' fault that Derek wasn't here, that he didn't know what was going on.

Stiles nodded. "Don't tell Lydia. You should go home, take a shower, maybe take a nap."

"What, no reunion party?" Peter asked

"Didn't have one for Cora", Stiles pointed out. "No need to have one now."

"Well, that's nice of you, Stiles, thank you", Cora said.

"Whatever", Stiles shrugged. "Just keeping things fair and all. Get out of here."

"That's it?" Derek asked

Stiles didn't say anything, didn't even look Derek in the eye. "Cora, Peter, I'm sorry for not believing you before."

"Yeah, yeah", Peter said, walking towards the window. "We're going." He placed his hands on the windowsill and backflipped out the window, landing gracefully on his feet.

"He just had to be a showoff, didn't he?" Stiles asked

Cora shrugged. "We found him in a hotel in Seattle. Third from the bottom of our list. You two should talk."

Stiles watched as she jumped out the window too, curling her legs so she rolled on the ground in a somersault and jumping up from the ground into a run to catch up with Peter.

He backed away from the window, pulling out some textbooks and notebooks, setting them to the side.

He didn't want to talk. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to process all of this.

"You're angry with me", Derek said bluntly.

Angry wasn't even covering it.

Stiles was shaking his head, pulling out his list of assignments due and reading them.

"Cora told me Scott died", Derek tried again. "I'm sorry. I would have been here if I had known."

Would he have been? Would he really? It was nice of Derek to say, but he didn't get to bring up Scott like this, so casually. Stiles stopped unpacking his things for a couple of seconds, staring at the wall in front of him. "Unless you came back to tell me that all of this isn't real? That it's all some twisted reality crafted by some crazy Alpha werewolf magic and that Scott's really alive and you want to pull me out of this crapfest into the real world? I really don't want to talk to you right now, okay? You need to go."

"Stiles"

_"Don't be such a sourwolf!" He said cheerfully to Derek._

"-Get out", he said lowly.

"Let me explain", Derek said, putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

_Stiles looked at Derek's reaction, him looking down at his hand and then up at him again. "I'm taking my hand off", he told him._

Stiles looked at the hand. "I said get out." His eyes turned white and for a split second, he didn't hold in his anger. Derek was lifted up into the air and thrown out of the window. Stiles watched him get up outside to make sure that his neck didn't snap on the way down, before closing the window and sitting down at his desk, ignoring the smell of Derek's cologne in the air.

"Should I be worried that we had a visitor sleeping outside all weekend?" His father asked him. "That said visitor was wanted for murder?"

"He was exonerated", Stiles told him.

"That doesn't mean that he's not dangerous", The Sheriff pointed out in between bites. "Have I mentioned how much I appreciate that you made waffles?"

Stiles shrugged, putting dirty dishes in the sink. He needed to keep his hands busy this morning, needed to keep his mind off of things. "Felt in the mood."

"Is that Hale kid threatening you?"

It would be easy to lie in order to get him out of there. It'd be easy to tell Derek that he was trespassing. It'd be easier for Stiles to be able to deal with it all. But he didn't.

"No, he hasn't threatened me."

"What's he doing here, then?" The Sheriff asked.

Stiles looked out the window. "I'm not sure", he said honestly.

"He hasn't moved from that spot in days. If he's not threatening you and you don't think he's dangerous, then maybe you should find out. Or at least invite him in for some breakfast. He's probably hungry."

Derek didn't have an amulet yet. If his father tried to invite him in without one, questions would be asked when he was thrown in the opposite direction.

"I'll toss him a breakfast bar on my way out", he promised.

"Get the paper too, would you?"

"They have apps so you don't have to deal with a subscription and delivery", Stiles told him, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

"It's not the same", his dad waved him off. "Go on, get to school."

Stiles opened the pantry and grabbed a couple of breakfast bars before heading out the door. Derek snapped up from his sitting position on the grass and caught the bars that were tossed his way.

"Thanks", Derek said.

"From my Dad, not me", Stiles answered, grabbing the paper from the lawn and carrying it inside. He didn't look at Derek when he came back out again. He just got in his Jeep and pulled out of the driveway.

"You're really bad at keeping me in the loop", Lydia said, sitting down across from him at the table in the library.

Stiles pointed at the sign to his left.. No food, no drinks, no talking. He turned back to his textbook, highlighting a passage.

Lydia on the other hand, pulled a water bottle out of her purse, screwing open the cap and leaving it open before she pulled out a tupperware of salad, opening that too, but not touching it. "I'm a rule-breaker", she shrugged. "Why

didn't you tell me that Derek faked his death and that he's in town?"

"What?" He looked up from his textbook. It wasn't like Lydia and Peter were on close terms, and he doubted that Lydia and Cora had sleepovers or nightly phone calls. "Who told you?"

"Your face just now", she answered. "That and him standing out in the parking lot. How security doesn't kick him out is a miracle."

Looked like Derek followed him to school. Kali was following him around too. He wondered if this meant that Kali knew that Derek was alive. Stiles let out a frustrated sigh.

"So what happened?" Lydia prompted. "Where was he? Why'd he fake his death?"

Stiles shrugged.

"You didn't ask him?"

"Nope", Stiles answered, turning the page in his textbook.

"Okay", she said slowly. "What did Isaac and Boyd say when you told them he was alive?"

"He's been back a day, alright? I haven't had the chance to have that conversation with them. And I guess now that Derek's hanging around everywhere, the cat's out of the bag."

"They should have heard it from you."

Stiles let out a bitter laugh, tilting his head to the side. "Yeah, well, they shouldn't have to hear anything about this. Because Derek shouldn't have left to begin with."

Lydia grabbed a walnut from her salad and stuck it in her mouth. "Maybe you should tell him that."

There was a part of Stiles that wanted to see Derek coming back as a sign of hope. He wanted to think that it was really good timing, that a week ago, he was looking for a way to get rid of this constant burden on his shoulders, and now maybe there was someone that could help him.

But he couldn't. He shook the idea out of his head. He needed to see this for what it was. Peter and Cora started a project, like a powerpoint presentation or an essay. They believed that Derek was alive, and Stiles told them to do whatever they wanted to ease their minds. Stiles didn't send them on a mission to look for Derek because they needed him. It was an assignment that they created and executed themselves. Stiles had his own assignment, to find the Darach and kill it. Nothing had changed other than the number of people in their group. That was it.

"There's no point", Stiles told her. "We need to focus on the Darach, on Deucalion. We don't have time to focus on Derek."

"You're at a standstill", Lydia said flatly. "We don't have a way to track it down, a way to figure out who it is. Girl, guy, or thing, we've got nothing."

"Not necessarily."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The last time I...saw Gerard", he worded carefully. "He told me about a spell that he had in his house that could help us track down what we're looking for. And even though I know the bad guys lie to save themselves, I think it's worth a look around."

"Do you think there's such a thing as an anti-magical barrier?" Lydia asked. "If there's one in that house and there's some sort of trap, you won't be able to pull yourself out of it."

"I think it'd fine", he answered. "They're anti-werewolf in that house, not really anti-magic. I think the worst thing I'll find is a barrier of mountain ash and wolfsbane in vases at the dinner table."

"You don't know that", Lydia told him. "They could be against anything supernatural."

"Gerard wanted the bite to fight his cancer for him. I think the circumstances changed."

"Okay", she nodded. "Say you find it and you get out of there safe and sound. Are you going to cast it? You don't know what side effects it'll have."

"I'll make sure I read the fine print", Stiles answered. "We've got to give it a shot."

"I'll come with you after school if you want."

"No", he replied immediately. "No, I'm good."

"Oh my God", she rolled her eyes. "Are you doing that overprotective Papa Bear routine again? If it's safe for you to be in there, it'll be safe for me to be there too."

"Go home and read about String Theory or something."

She shrugged, closing the salad and putting it away. "I got bored with String Theory, but suit yourself." She got up and left the open water bottle behind.

"Of course you did", he muttered as she walked away. Five minutes later the librarian walked over to his table. "There's no drinks in here."

Stiles looked at the bottle of water and scowled.

Derek was there next to his car after school. He stepped out of the way when Stiles reached in with his key to unlock it.

"Unbelievable. No word for five months, and now I can't get rid of you."

He tossed his backpack in the trunk before opening the driver's side door and getting in. "You might as well get in the car and stop being creepy about it."

He stood up straight, staring directly in front of him as Derek walked around car and got in the passenger seat. For the first time in a while, Stiles didn't feel like hitting the person sitting shotgun.

"You're different", Derek told him.

"That happens", Stiles answered roughly, shifting gears and pulling out of the space, heading towards Gerard's old house. Lydia remembered going there a couple of times with Allison a year ago to get supplies- she gave Stiles directions.

"You're going to talk to me?" Derek asked "Let me explain myself?"

"Sure", he forced out the word. "Let's_ talk_. Go ahead, I'm listening."

"I thought it was the right thing to do", Derek said. "I thought it would keep everyone safe."

"That's it?" Stiles let out a laugh. "Seriously, that's all you've got?"

"Isaac and Boyd are alive, aren't they?"

Stiles shifted to a higher gear. "You have nothing to do with why Isaac and Boyd are still alive."

"Peter said you've taken it upon yourself to do a couple of...unsavory things recently."

He knew that Derek was watching him, studying him, trying to understand something. At least it looked that way.

"Is that the word he used? Unsavory? Old terms for the old man."

"He's not really second in command, is he?" Derek asked

"Why?"

"Stiles, you know you can't trust him. Not after what he's done. He will twist and manipulate you."

"Funny", Stiles tossed back. "I could say the same thing about you."

He felt his stomach twist when he turned his head to look at Derek. In that split second, he could see the defeat in his face, the guilt, but he wasn't going to take back the words.

Peter had changed. He became more reliable, he was trying to be a team player, he was trying to move past what he had done. Through it all, Peter kept the humor alive in himself, despite the tragedy. It was something that Stiles had trouble with.

"You just don't know Peter the way I do."

"No", Derek answered solemnly. "I guess not."

They drove in silence for the rest of the way until they pulled into the driveway.

"What are we doing here?" Derek asked

Stiles shut off the Jeep, and opened the door. "Running an errand", he answered, getting out of the car.

"You're not going in there", Derek told him, closing the door after he got out.

"You're giving me orders now?" Stiles asked

He felt Derek pull him back, turning to face him. "What happened to you? How can I fix this?"

Stiles blinked. "You want to know what _happened?_ You want to_ fix_ me? Maybe you should have done something five months ago. Did you ever think of that? What were you doing in Seattle, huh? Brooding around in some coffeeshop? Did you ever think of what you were leaving behind?"

"I don't know, I just"

"-Of course not", Stiles interrupted. "Of course you didn't think of the consequences. You want to know what happened to me? I thought that you and Scott were dead. But guess what? Scott's dead, Scott's still dead, but you're alive. He was killed by the Darach, and I bet that if he had the chance that you did? If he had the choice to risk his life to stick around and live with us, he would do it in an instant instead of leaving and abandoning the people who cared about him."

Derek was dead silent, his jaw clenched. Stiles continued anyway. "You know, I thought about you? Cora and Peter told me again and again, 'Derek's still alive, we're going to find him and bring him back.' And you know what I did? I called them crazy. I thought it was the most ridiculous idea I had ever heard, because I thought I _knew_ you. The facts were right in front of me, nobody took over as pack Alpha, nobody started sporting flashy red eyes, there was no body, but I ignored the logic and the facts because I thought I knew you. Your sister was killed and you had every reason to run, especially with the police after you, but you stuck around. You avenged her death, and you could have left this all behind, but you stayed and you built a pack?"

Stiles took a breath, hoping for the emotion filter to kick in, but it didn't. "And then the pack essentially left you, they ran away, and you could have left then too, but you stuck around to look for them even though you had a feeling that they didn't _want_ you. But you leave now? After you find a sister you thought was dead and after you rescued someone you spent a summer looking for? And the only explanation you can give me is that you thought it was the right thing to do? You abandoned us. You left us behind to deal with the mess. What did you think was going to happen, Derek? That the Alpha pack was just going to back off because they thought you were dead?"

"I-" Derek's mouth was open, but words weren't coming out.

"Did you think that you could leave us all alone and we would be okay with it? You think that an Alpha could leave a pack of werewolves, and that the one human that was around with _no_ abilities and no way to defend himself at the time would live? What did you think was going to happen when you came back, Derek? That we'd hug it out and everything would be okay? You abandoned us, you abandoned _me_. You left me to _die._"

Stiles turned away from Derek and walked towards the house, using his sleeve to mop up the tears that had fallen down his face. His hand was on the doorknob when Derek caught up to him.

"I'm sorry."

Stiles had heard the words so many times over the past five months, and it was one of the first times it was truly genuine. But he couldn't forgive Derek, not in an instant. It didn't work like that.

The palms of his hands were suddenly holding fire, and when Derek saw them, he stepped back, like the memories were going through his mind. Stiles felt like a jerk, but the magic was involuntary. They were tied to his emotions.

"Derek, you need to wait in the car", he said lowly.

"It's not safe in there."

"I'm not safe for you right now. You need to wait in the car."

Stiles opened the door, leaving marks of melting metal behind. He tried to avoid looking at Derek as he closed it.


	11. The more I see the less I know

The only noise made on the way back to the loft was the light tapping that Stiles was making idly on the steering wheel. He glanced over at Derek before making right turns a couple of times- he was looking down, staring at his hands. There was a guilty expression on his face that didn't falter during the entire trip.

It was an expression that they both shared once Stiles pulled up to Derek's building and realized that in order to get past the security system up the elevator, he needed an amulet that hadn't been given to him yet. Maybe this was why Derek was outside his house all weekend, because the barriers recognized him as a supernatural being without authorization to get in.

Stiles had the amulet ready to go in his pocket- he had just been too angry to give it to him. He accidentally made Derek homeless for a couple of days, even if Cora or Peter had the ability to let him in. They rode up the elevator in silence, and Derek moved to get off of the elevator first.

The guilt that was stuck on both of their faces broke the instant Stiles put his hand on Derek's chest, stopping him from going forward. He took his hand off to dig around in his jacket pocket, pulling out the necklace. He grabbed Derek's hand, holding it open and dropping it, stepping out of the elevator after doing so.

Derek trying to get out of the elevator right away told Stiles that he didn't know the room would reject him, that it would throw him back in the elevator and force the elevator to go down to the lobby without stopping. Derek didn't come here once since he had been back- all of his time was spent outside of Stiles' house.

Why?

He cleared his throat. "Stilinski and Derek Hale. Master override."

Derek appeared next to him as the door made the familiar whirring noise. He was holding the necklace out in front of him, the silver triskelion shining in the light. He stared at the pendant and then back at Stiles. Stiles ignored him, pulling open the door to see Lydia and Peter staring at each other. Not good.

He rushed in to see Cora in between them. Isaac and Boyd were on the other side of the room with their backs turned, looking at something on the table. At least Cora was here spectating, making sure that nobody died. Isaac and Boyd should have been more concerned- Lydia hadn't been in the same room with Peter since Aiden died.

He could see both of them trying to look as strong as they could to mask how afraid they were of each other. Stiles looked over at Lydia. He knew that she was terrified of one thing- losing control of herself. Every full moon, she needed to be with someone because she was afraid that she would wake up next to a dead body, terrified that she would be responsible for the murder one day. Peter gave her that fear, and Stiles could still see her back in her bedroom, not terrified for her own life, but for the safety of her family. Stiles felt the same fear every time something bad happened in this town, always making sure that his father was safe first.

He looked over at Peter, and saw the bravery in his face begin to dwindle. Stiles knew what it was like to carry the guilt around, to walk and wait for punishment to come. Lydia and Derek were constant, living reminders of what Peter did. The books told Stiles that Peter being here was unnatural, that it shouldn't have happened. The pages told him things that Peter would never admit- that there was a dark desperation in his soul to make things right again. It was the only thing that gave him the ability to use Lydia in the first place.

It was something that Scott didn't have.

"If I could go back", Peter started, breaking the silence. "I would change my approach. Make it...kinder."

"I'm sure you would", Lydia answered, pulling her wolfsbane cleaver out of nowhere. She spun the handle around so that the blade was facing Peter. "I'm sure if you killed us all behind our backs, you'd say later that you would change your approach. I'm here to tell you that I'm not going to let that happen."

She held the edge of the blade to Peter's heart, but it didn't go any farther that that. His eyes didn't leave hers, he didn't react.

Cora's eyes changed color, and she was getting ready to fight. Stiles looked over at Derek, who did nothing.

"Lydia", Stiles warned.

"I understand", Peter said firmly.

"I can't stop how involved you are in all of this because Stiles won't let me", she went on. "But I am not afraid of you. One step out of place and this kills you. I won't flinch."

Peter nodded.

Lydia put the knife away.

"Did you and Allison have the same talk?" Cora asked Lydia, stepping over to where Peter was.

"I'm not talking to her right now", Lydia said, frustrated. "Not after the choices she made."

"You have to", Stiles told her. "Tonight, remember?"

"I'm still mad at you", she said. "I can't go with you, but you'll take ghost-boy over here?" She gestured at Derek.

"I didn't take him", Stiles answered. "I didn't invite him, he was just standing there. What did you want me to do?"

"The same thing you've been doing to everyone else", Lydia replied angrily. "Did you find it?"

He pulled the book out of his pocket and held it up. "Yeah."

"I don't want you to cast it right away", Derek told him.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, putting the book away. "I thought we had this discussion. You don't make that decision. I do."

"Just not tonight, then."

Of course he wasn't going to cast it tonight. He needed to make sure he had supplies, needed to go over everything with a fine-toothed comb. He wasn't going to add it to the list of all of the other things that were happening tonight.

He tried to look as stupidly confused as he could at Derek. "Tonight?" He asked

Peter and Cora chuckled, crossing their arms simultaneously.

Derek nodded. "The full moon?"

It wasn't the first time they had to handle the full moon. Stiles had a system in place, everyone had a safe place to be in and a role to play. It was necessary because Boyd was the only werewolf without an anchor- they needed to make sure that everything was under control and Stiles didn't want to risk isaac doing it alone. Peter and Cora were always in town to help, even if they had to fly in from across the country.

"Gee, I had no idea that the full moon was tonight. Thanks, Derek. What would I ever do without you?" He looked over at Peter and Cora. "You guys both ready?"

They nodded. He looked over at Lydia, who always spent the night at Allison's house. It started out as a friendly sleepover with Allison, but now it was a means to make sure that hunters weren't involved. "You ready to shelf your issues with Allison for a night?"

She rolled her eyes before nodding her head. "Sure." She shot Peter a warning glare before heading towards the door. "We're taking later", she said to Stiles, who nodded.

He looked over at Isaac and Boyd. What were they doing over there? "Isaac, Boyd?" He called out.

They turned around. They must have both seen Derek at the same time, because Stiles saw the two different reactions. Isaac froze in place, and Boyd's face lit up as he smiled widely. Stiles watched Boyd walk over to Derek and give him a one-armed hug.

There was a shocked look on Derek's face with the contact. "I hoped you were alive", Stiles heard Boyd say. Derek nodded before stepping back.

Stiles looked over at Isaac who was avoiding eye contact with Derek. There was a terrified look in his eyes that disappeared after he took a breath and fixed a stony expression on his face, stepping forward.

There was no hug or handshake, there was no relief in his eyes, no happiness. "Where were you?" He asked right away.

Derek was quiet for a second, looking down like he was ashamed of something. He was about to say something when Boyd spoke instead. "That doesn't matter. He's here now, isn't he?"

"It's the only thing that matters", Isaac answered. "You should have been here."

"I know", Derek said in a low voice.

"Were you testing us?" Isaac asked. "To see if we could survive without you? Did we pass? Did you even want us to?"

"It wasn't-" Derek started, then stopped. "I'm sorry."

"Then what do you call it?" Isaac demanded, his voice getting louder. "Were you trying to punish us? What didn't we do?"

"I don't think", Boyd started.

"-You kick me out of here", Isaac cut him off. "No explanation. And then you're gone a week later? We thought you weredead. I thought Peter and Cora were delusional, that Boyd was getting his hopes up for nothing. But part of me?" Stiles watched as Isaac shook his head. "Part of me wanted you back by that first full moon, despite everything, because you'realways here to help us. But you never showed."

Stiles stared at Derek, blinking silently. It didn't make sense at the time that Isaac started living with Scott, but he didn't push it. He figured that Isaac and Scott were just getting closer, he didn't even think that Derek would kick Isaac out, not without a reason.

Derek looked like a complete stranger to Stiles now, even closing his eyes like Isaac struck him.

"I'm sorry", he said, struggling.

"You could have just told me to leave", Isaac continued. "You didn't have to do it that way."

"Isaac, back off", Cora said.

Stiles wasn't sure if Isaac was about to punch Derek in the face or break down crying. He stepped forward and put an arm around Isaac's shoulder. He felt Isaac tense at the contact- it wasn't what he needed. Stiles let go. "Isaac, what happened?" He asked

Isaac shook his head silently. "You knew what that would do to me. I told you what happened in confidence!"

"I know", Derek said numbly, taking the blow.

What the fuck happened here? He looked over at Cora, who was fuming. He shot a look at Peter, who nodded. If Cora lost her cool and tried to attack, Peter was ready to step in.

Derek looked too wounded and guilty to try and start a fight.

"I wouldn't have told you if I knew that you were going to use it against me!" Isaac shouted

"I wanted to know", Derek told him. "I thought it would help."

"You thought it would help me move on", Isaac finished. "I didn't tell you what happened because you were my Alpha. I didn't have to tell you anything. I told you because we were a family, because I trusted you!"

Stiles saw Isaac's eyes flickering back and forth, like he was about to lose it any second. He pushed Derek towards the staircase. "Derek, you need to go upstairs now."

"Isaac", Derek tried.

"Derek, go. Now." Stiles ordered.

Derek gave Isaac a pleading look before slowly heading up the stairs. Boyd gave Isaac's shoulder a quick squeeze, looking over at Stiles and then at Derek, like he needed to make a choice between the two of them.

"Go", Stiles told Boyd, glancing over at Derek. "He's going to need a friend."

Peter and Boyd went up the stairs. Cora was about to follow them when she heard what Isaac had to say next. "He doesn't care. He's just here to punish us."

Stiles watched her spin around quickly. Peter paused, looking over his shoulder. "You really don't know what you're talking about", Cora said in a biting tone.

"Okay", Stiles said, putting himself between Isaac and Cora. "Does someone want to clue me in here?"

Isaac opened his mouth to try and explain, but Cora cut him off. "You don't know the whole story."

It seemed like Isaac knew enough.

"Why don't you tell us what you know, and Isaac can put his perspective in there next?" Stiles suggested.

"I was mad", Cora started, her voice shaking. "I was so mad that we were taken, that they just got away with what they did to us in that bank vault. The first sign of hope that I had in years was when they took me. They thought I was the Hale starting a pack. They thought it was me, and then they found Erica and Boyd, realized I didn't know who they were. They killed Erica because she had a fighting spirit in her, something that I had forgotten was inside of me."

"That has nothing to do with this", Isaac told her.

Cora walked to the other side of the room. "I was standing right here that day", she said, letting out a breath. "Derek wanted me to rest, and I just wanted to take them down one by one. They broke in here, set off the alarm. The next thing we know, Kali has a pole skewering Derek like she's about to roast him over a fire for dinner. He was bleeding out and healing around the wound for hours. The faster he healed, the more she twisted it inside of him. I was standing right here for hours, and he shook his head, silently begging me to not go over to him to even try and fight them off."

"We'll get them, Cora", Stiles promised.

She nodded. "Deucalion was there. They told him that it was an inevitability." She spat out the last word. "That no matter how hard Derek fought, he was going to kill his pack one by one. He knew you were the most vulnerable because you lived with him. He used whatever he needed to do in order to kick you out and keep you safe."

That sounded like something Derek would do, but Isaac didn't seem satisfied. Stiles watched him shaking his head. "He should have done a better job about it. It doesn't make it any better."

"What did he do?" Stiles asked

Isaac was quiet for a second, like if he said the words, he would relive that moment. Like it was something that he was afraid of doing. "It's okay", Stiles told him. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"He threw a glass at me", Isaac answered. "The night my Dad died, he…"

Stiles remembered snooping at his Dad's files. There were pictures of the house, of the kitchen. There was glass everywhere.

Isaac cleared his throat. "And earlier that day, Ethan and Aiden locked me up in the Janitor's closet with Allison. I almost hurt her."

Isaac's Dad kept a freezer downstairs that he put Isaac in to punish him. Stiles wanted to pat him on the shoulder, hug him, do something to show him that it wouldn't happen to him again.

"It was Derek's birthday", Cora said suddenly. "I had forgotten about it because I considered myself an orphan for so long, and he never talked about it. But he was there for hours with a pole in his body, and he didn't want to fight it because it was more important to him that we were all still alive. All he wanted for his birthday was to sit with us in silence so that he could appreciate what he had left. So you can say that Derek didn't care and that he kicked you out. And I'm sorry that it was a really bad day for everything to happen to you, Isaac. But you kept asking what you did wrong."

"Yes, I did", Isaac answered. "I thought it was a fair question at the time."

"You should have asked him what happened", Cora told him. "He sacrificed his own happiness to try and keep you alive, and he's still willing to let you hate him if it keeps you safe. It's because Derek loves you more than anything. And you would rather blame him instead of ask the right questions."

Cora walked past them and went up the stairs.

Isaac shook his head. "I didn't know."

"Did Scott know what happened?" Stiles asked

"I don't think he knew what Cora did."

Scott never told Stiles a word. Sometimes Stiles forgot that he wasn't the only person who lost Scott.

"But he knew what you did?"

Isaac nodded. "Is Derek going to be here tonight?"

Stiles took a deep breath. "Well, he's not going to get his hair braided by Allison and he can't spend the night with Mrs. McCall, she's taking a shift at the hospital tonight."

"I can only stay in control if I focus on the positive parts of my childhood", Isaac told him. "I don't think I can do that with Derek here."

Stiles nodded. "Before Peter and Cora left to find him, do you remember what I said to you? I told you that you were safe, and that I would find a way to make sure that you would be protected. I'm going to stand by that."

Peter appeared out of nowhere. "You're going to have to take him with you, Stiles."

"Where did you come from?" Stiles asked. "I thought you were upstairs."

Peter shrugged. "Wanted to make sure that Cora didn't shift."

"Take him where?" Isaac asked. "I thought you played video games at home during the full moon."

"And let everyone else do the dirty work?" Stiles asked, pretending to clutch his heart. "I'm wounded."

"You'd be safer if you did", Peter told him.

"I'd be wasting my time."

"Then what does he do?" Isaac asked.

"Don't worry about it", Stiles grumbled, walking away from them.

"There's a map on the table of the old Hale Pack territory lines", Peter said. "You need an Alpha to reinstate them. It'll help keep the town safe from other packs."

Stiles didn't want to bother with that if Derek was just going to leave the next time things got a bit difficult, but Derek couldn't stay here, for Isaac's sake. "Email it to me so I can pull it up with my phone later."

"Sure thing, boss", Peter answered cheerfully.

"I hate you", Stiles said over his shoulder, heading up the stairs.

He heard Derek speaking softly to Boyd and Cora. "Laura promised me after the fire that nothing bad would ever happen to me, that we would be a team and get through it together."

Stiles stopped around the corner. "I couldn't be Laura for you", he heard Derek tell them. "I'm sorry. I'm just grateful that you're still alive."

It sounded like Derek. Even throwing Isaac out sounded like Derek with all of the facts. But maybe Stiles didn't actually know Derek after all- he left. He walked in the room like he hadn't heard anything, and tried to be as formal as possible. "Derek, you're coming with me tonight. Nine o'clock."

He didn't wait for an answer, just went downstairs and started heading out the door. It was six o'clock now, he had time to go home, create the illusion of being there for the rest of the night, and changing.

"Stiles", Isaac tried to stop him. "What do you usually do during full moons?"

It was the right question, but Stiles wasn't going to start giving the right answer. He didn't need everyone to worry tonight. Besides, if he told the truth every time someone asked, his father would constantly try to be involved to protect him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Stiles opened the door and shrugged. "Something stupid."


End file.
